Palmer - 2010 Field Season

Final Journey

besimmons — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 15:50:52 +0000

As the ship pulled away from the station Tuesday, February 3rd, several people took the ‘polar plunge , a tradition of jumping into the frigid Antarctic water to bid the ship farewell as it began its final journey back across the Drake to the mainland. The snowfall distorted our view ahead making visibility at sea minimal until we got to the Neumayer Channel where the sky partially cleared. The channel is sixteen miles long yet only 1.5 miles wide, separating Anvers Island from other islands in the Palmer Archipelgo. It is a beautiful scene of high mountainous ridges that quickly meld into the open ocean. Since Tuesday we have been reminded with occasional 13-foot swells the power the Drake’s Passage holds over its unsteady travelers. A relatively smooth trip back, the ships business and steady workload converts into longer, more relaxing days. I take time to make one last post reflecting on the past six weeks.

My goal was to capture on film a glimpse of this inspiring ecosystem and the research takes place within it. I endeavored to assist my readers as they, too, shared the journey. I am truly grateful to have been selected to witness the continent and feel its will to survive. It has wild strength and is incomparable to anything I have ever experienced in my lifetime. The spirit of adventure never really disappeared from the moment I left Virginia but transformed into a challenge to educate myself, document everything and learn from those who have come before. The beauty of the marine life here and the creatures that inhabit the place despite their individual struggles have completely amazed me. The combination of the salty sea amidst these grand islands surrounding a continent covered in snow and ice is a sight that is engrained in my memory. Every day brought different conditions. Those who shared their own personal stories were a pleasure to meet and in their own way leave a legacy. To unravel the mysteries this continent holds the research must continue and for me I believe the best part is yet to come. Sharing the knowledge and experiences I’ve had, the photographs I’ve taken, and the videos that will transform themselves into stories will help me pass on to others what this great place holds. Please continue to follow the transformation by visiting our education and outreach website at http://pal.lter.edu/outreach/

The Humpbacks

besimmons — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 18:50:49 +0000

From the top of the glacier we used our radios to make contact with the station and overheard several others out on zodiacs witnessing a pod of humpbacks in the vicinity. We have a nice clear view from this vantage point but certainly too far for photographs. Slightly disappointed that I missed another whale event, we make our way down the glacier the trip taking half the time as did the initial climb. Wet and thirsty we stop off at station for tea and water. Within minutes I’m invited to go out on a zodiac with other photographers to see if the humpbacks are still in the bay. I feel my heart racing quickly as I anxiously run to get my gear back on the ship. I prepared myself mentally just in case the pod had left and we missed the opportunity. All the brash ice from the glaciers slowed our departure but it didn’t stop any of us from scanning the water. I see it. A large spout of white mist puffs out rising from the ocean’s surface off to my right. Two adult humpbacks with one calf are feeding and frolicking. Their flukes are in the air. We follow them for a while remaining within the two mile zodiac limit from the station, my finger never leaving the camera’s shutter button. This is by far the closest I have ever been to these giants. At one point, one of the adults comes and dives under the boat. I won’t lie – I felt she was investigating us just as much as we were her. She met up with the baby and other adult on our port side and together they swam off beyond our limits. Yet another experience to share. Unbelievable….

The Glacier

besimmons — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 18:44:50 +0000

We have come full circle and have arrived back at Palmer station. Reminiscent of our initial port stop back in January, this too is a time when cargo operations monopolize the deck. As many on the ship race to inventory samples and pack up laboratories, several of us make hiking up the glacier our priority. Not having had the opportunity during our first stop here, we didn’t want to miss the chance this time around. The sun was making an effort to clear the clouds, giving way to warm sunshine and bright skies. The dirt road ended and we began to navigate through what many call the rocky ‘backyard’ of Palmer station. On the other side of the harbor the deafening sound of a glacier calving stops us in our tracks as we race with our cameras to capture a sizable chunk crashing into the water and the resulting waves pushing the brash ice out of the way. This experience of hearing the calving glacier is not new. I have witnessed at least four or fives of these during this trip, the sound of the crack and fall stops me in my tracks every time. A more melodic sound as we continue walking greets us where the glacier ice meets the end of the rocky backyard. Water from the glacier melting and trickling down to the ocean has a more soothing effect. We leap as we all cross the threshold, setting foot on ice. Our first ever glacier walk. The ice is hard and crunches underfoot. This sound, too, is memorable. As we made our way up, it was not unusual to hear water underneath the ice flowing, which I must admit was a bit unnerving. This glacier is alive with movement. We are to stay in between the flags marking the recent growing crevasse on the left side, where the ice is less stable. The crevasse appears to be making its way down from the top, growing larger over the years while being monitored closely by station managers. We make it to the top and take in the scenery. It was worth the climb!

Port Lockroy blog post: February 3rd, 2010.

besimmons — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 22:26:15 +0000

Our day began with a traditional crossing ceremony inviting all pollywogs (those who are experiencing crossing the Antarctic Circle for the very first time) to a breakfast sponsored by the veterans. Let’s just say French toast topped with maple syrup, A1 steak sauce, mustard and ketchup along with a tablespoon of pepper and four red grapes was tough to swallow with only a concoction of diet coke, syrup of some sort and who knows what else with which to wash it down. I am sworn to secrecy regarding the rest of the morning’s events but ultimately this challenge resulted in ten of us obtaining our certificates and improving our status to “shellbacks”. After a normal lunch, we visited Port Lockroy, one of Antarctica’s more historic British ‘base’ locations. The memorable experience introduced us to a close encounter with the Gentoo penguin population, a group being monitored for fourteen years on the island. An old whaling port from 1911 -1931, the original Port Lockroy base was not built on this Goudier Island until February, 1944. Since then, it has been restored as a nonprofit organization since 1996 by the British Antarctic Survey and is open to visitors during the Antarctic summer. We invited the four United Kingdom correspondents back onto the LMG for hot showers, tea and cookies. Over tea, I learned these four women have never met before, gave up their full-time jobs to come live on this island for four months and survive with no running water, buckets for toilets, and a couple of gas generators with very little heat. The food they bring includes nonperishable goods because they have no refrigerator or freezer. Most of the cooking is completed on a camper stove. They do use solar panels for charging two electric lights, a radio and their laptops but the internet is not an option. They were dropped off in November and will depart some time in February at the close of the summer season. Please enjoy visiting the Port Lockroy Diaries at www.ukaht.org.

Ice covers the oceans surface

besimmons — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 21:24:30 +0000

I awoke early to new sounds crashing against the side of the ship. We’ve headed further south than the LMG has ever gone. As the crow flies we are approximately 6,250 miles from San Diego and over 6,500 miles from Virginia. This is new territory for the Palmer LTER team. Heading up to the bridge several others had already gathered to the sounds of the ship plowing through the ice on the surface of the ocean. It’s a scene that one would typically expect to see when coming to Antarctica. Up to this point, the water’s surface has been clear and deep blue. Now large bergs spread over the surface like pancakes and Charcot Island waits in the distance. We all stand on the bridge in silence. Snow petrals grace the sky, an indication that we are surrounded by ice. They are accompanied by the Southern Giant Petral. As the ship steams forward between 4 and 6 knots it crushes the ice in its path. The sound is unique. I duct taped a voice recorder to an old test tube rack and lowered it with a rope over the side of the back deck on the starboard side to record the sounds of the ice. Much of the ice is filled with brown algae (phytoplankton) which has been growing and cultivating itself since November, the start of the summer season which brings warmer temperatures. “Warmer’ is relative – It’s just above zero at this time of day. Along with the algae come higher trophic animals benefiting from the cycle we commonly call the food web. We could see crab eater and leopard seals scurrying from one flow to the next trying to escape the wrath of the ship.

Monitoring Changes

besimmons — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 21:40:15 +0000

Scientists monitor changes in sea ice because it affects many levels of the Antarctic marine ecosystem, from the timing and magnitude of primary production to the breeding success and survival of top predators such as penguins. Understanding the physical mechanisms that influence changes in sea ice helps scientists understand the biological changes in the marine ecosystem.

Studying the survival of top predators of the Antarctic food web are Avian specialists Kristen Gorman and Sean Farry. They are on board conducting a bird census as we approach Charcot Island. Last year, a small Adelie penguin colony was spotted on the island. They’ve returned to investigate the breeding colony this year and note whether or not the colony survived the winter. Two zodiacs are launched and weave their way through the ice. We spot an Emperor penguin standing 4 feet high, alone on a berg and everyone comes out on deck to witness its presence. The Adelies here are a good indication that the food web this far south along the peninsula continues to thrive. Kristen and Sean have their work cut out for them as they scale the side of Charcot to count, diet sample and attache PTTs to the Adelies.

While they’re rock climbing, the rest of us spend time scrambling to sample these uncharted waters. Zooplankton nets are towed and sediment traps are launched. The CTD is lowered into the water, investigating what the water column contains around Charcot island. The ship also records the bathymetric features as we sail, trying to augment the maps and charts of these areas with greater detail. What is the extent of these underwater canyons? What lives this far south along the peninsula? We are truly charting new waters….

Blue Ice around Charcot Island

besimmons — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 21:24:14 +0000

As we approach more ice I saved this response to several of your questions. It may appear in many of the photographs that the Icebergs and ice flows look like snow because of their white appearance. They are in fact solid ice. Some white. Some blue. And, as you have seen, some are riddled with brown algae. The difference lies in how the snow freezes over time. For example, blue ice occurs when snow falls on a glacier and is compressed, thus becoming a part of the glacier. During a glacier’s travels, all the air bubbles that are trapped in the ice are squeezed out and the size of the ice crystals increases making it ‘crystal clear’. It’s often blue for the same reason that water is blue – it is a result of the way the water in the ice absorbs all colors of natural light but reflects the blue color wavelengths of light.

Soccer Game against the British.

besimmons — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 00:58:36 +0000

Each year this annual trip to Rothera ends with a soccer (football) match between Palmer and the British. Rivalry between the two teams continues all day with great smack talk and teasing because the game is a huge tradition. Many of us thought the long walk around the Point was their tactic to tire us and weaken our defenses. We rallied together and almost twenty-five of us here on the ship gathered to defeat them using the strategy of having fresh legs to send in a substitute in at any given moment. Geared up with LMG t-shirts we were ready to take on the Brits and came out snarling. Menacing stick-on tattoos were placed on our necks, faces and forearms. Stretching and slow jogs around the runway were a ploy to prove our athleticism. You read correctly – a runway. We played on their airplane runway. Yes, we know, very unusual playing conditions but then again, we’re in Antarctica. Blue sky and light winds were in our favor even though the temperature was falling below zero as the sun lowered in the sky. First half, the British came out in full force, scoring twice and catching us a bit unorganized on the field. We came back in the second half with pressure in the front field, pushing their goalie to his limit but came out with nothing. With the final minutes closing in on us, we accepted our fate and decided to put all twenty-five of us on the field to catch them off guard. Many of us were laughing so hard… the game ended before we could actually score. Good, clean fun. We’ll catch them next year.

Do these benthic invertebrate animals look similar to those that live in an ocean near your?

besimmons — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 00:53:00 +0000

The last excursion at Rothera Station ended with a ‘walk about’ of their science research laboratories and their marine aquarium labs. One of the divers demonstrated the kind of gear that is used when diving in Antarctica. Surprisingly, most of the equipment appeared quite similar to that used in any other typical dive in cold ocean water. The exception was the dry suit they used was thicker and the dive masks were full facial masks.

The diver emphasized the amount of safety precautions that they take when diving in such cold water – especially their ability to stay in communication with each other and those topside. Microphones are uniquely built into the masks to allow for this. Since their time underwater is minimal even with the thick dry suits, she emphasized the maximum time at depth is for only 35 – 40 minutes. Efficiency is mandatory. They make only one dive a day and strictly stick to their dive tables. There is a hyperbaric chamber on station but it has never been needed. She was kind enough to take us into the aquarium room and let us view some benthic invertebrates that they recently caught for experiments on station. Do any of these benthic invertebrates look like those living in the ocean near you? If you’re not near the coast, perhaps you have visited an aquarium and recognize some. Write to me and let me know what you recognize.

The Hike around the Rothera Point

besimmons — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 00:37:39 +0000

The finger bays surrounding Rothera were gorgeous. I felt as though I was transported to somewhere unique. My eyes have not taken in a scene like this ever before. As we were guided by the station manager along the rocky edge, large blocks of ice rested right alongside us pushed up from the tide. The sky was blue, the ice crisp white and the water sparkling from the sun. Skuas circled our heads, gulls protected their chicks high up on the rocks and I couldn’t take my eyes off the view. We walked up and came upon a few Adelie penguins coming in from a foraging trip, bellies fat, feathers clean. Just beyond them at the Point, my first encounter with the Weddell seal. Several were resting along the shoreline. We all sat for some time observing these photogenic, gentle giants later finding quite nooks along the shore to catch our breath and feel the warm sun on our faces. It was actually quite warm, about four degrees Celsius. Some Minke whales were in a small pod off in the distance. To our right, the rocky hillside whose side we began to climb to its very highest peak to looking back at the point, the station and the ships path from earlier that morning. The pod of minke whales were surfacing, taking deep breaths and making their way around the point. The bay was filled with more wildlife than many of us have seen aboard the ship for the past few weeks.