On the Ice

I do not travel well. It's not that I don't like to travel. There are lots of places in the world I'd like to see. I'm waiting for it to be possible to visit Australia during the day and be home in my own bed at night.

So my recent interest in Antarctica might seem a bit odd. I recently read a book called Where'd You Go, Bernadette?, the events of which are initiated by a 15-year-old's desire to take a family vacation to Antarctica. Who knew you could even take a vacation to Antarctica? But you can! And so, my current fascination with The Last Continent was born. This curiosity defies the expectations of those who know me best. "Cold" does not begin to describe the temperature, regardless of which part of the continent you refer, nor does "storm" accurately depict the whiteouts caused by hurricane strength winds that occur on a regular basis. Since I begin to worry about my hair's tendency to frizz during cold weather, Antarctica would not seem to be a good match if I'm to look my best. The people who stay there are either "beakers," scientists conducting research, or support staff, hard-working folks who work six days a week to keep everything running so scientific data can be gathered. Being interested in neither research nor hard work, again, Antarctica would not seem to be a natural fit for me. Because everything has to be flown in, from building materials to medicines, one finds very few comforts on the ice, including when one needs to visit the powder room. And, of course, food becomes a source of sustenance and calories in a harsh environment that requires all the energy one can get, more likely consisting of oatmeal rather than fresh apple pie. Way to take all the fun out of it.

Yet, I'm entranced by the idea of Antarctica. A place where there is little impact by human beings, where night and day each last six months, where nature exists in a beauty unlike anywhere else. The continent is about one and one-half times the size of the United States with 97-98% of it covered by ice. It is a desert, cold, dry, and windy. While its existence was suspected from ancient times, it wasn't until 1820 that a Russian Navy captain named Fabian von Bellinghausen actually laid eyes on an Antarctic island. This prompted people from nations around the world to swarm the coastal islands, but it wasn't until the early 1900's that "the Great Race" into the continent's interior began. British naval officer Robert Falcon Scott's expedition arrived at the South Pole, deep and high in Antarctica's interior on January 17, 1912, only to find the Norwegian flag already left a month earlier by an explorer named Roald Amundsen, who had used skis and dogsleds to cross the polar plateau (trust me when I tell you you don't want to know any more than that). Antarctica is now governed by an Antarctic Treaty System, currently signed by 50 countries, that sets aside the continent as a scientific preserve. Today, a number of countries have set up research stations; the United States has three: McMurdo, Palmer, and the Admundsen-Scott Station at the South Pole. Who wouldn't find such a mysterious, untouched place captivating?

I began reading more. As with all complex topics, I began with some children's books. Non-fiction written for children is an excellent way of learning just enough about a topic to abate one's curiosity. I highly recommend Wikipedia as another fountain of information on a variety of subjects but with the caveat that, well, stupid people sometimes write for it. I learned a bit more about the race between Scott and Amundsen to reach the South Pole (typical men, always trying to out-do one another). Seems that Scott and his men made it to the South Pole but didn't quite make it all the way back, the last three of them dying only 11 miles away from their base at McMurdo Sound. I also read some fiction taking place on Antarctica. While the first novel I tried, a young adult book that focused on a teen's relationship with one of the men from Scott's expedition (dead for 90 years, of course), turned out not to interest me. I gained the most from In Cold Pursuit by Sarah Andrews, a mystery that takes place at McMurdo Station. It was here that I truly began to understand why I will never be able to work on Antarctica. Lack of "freshies" (fresh food, particularly fruits and vegetables), not to mention sunshine for months at a time, would have me on the first plane out of there. Depending on where and when you are on the continent, it's not unusual for temperatures to remain significantly below 0 degrees Fahrenheit. Everything they do has to account for the safety of the people there, as a small problem anywhere else could become disastrous in a place with few resources, little communication, and at times, no access to the rest of the world. Ironically, it was when I read Ice Bound, written by a doctor who was "wintering-over" at the South Pole when she discovered she had breast cancer, that I saw why people would choose to do this. The South Pole, even more so than McMurdo or Palmer stations, is particularly remote and unreachable during the austral winter (not to mention dark and cold). Jerri Nielsen, the only doctor wintering-over with 40 other polies, had every reason to want to get the heck out of dodge. But her book is, in many ways, a love letter to Antarctica. She loved the changes it brought out in her, the beauty of the geography and the unique skies where you can see things like the auroroa australis, the kindness it brought out in the people around her, the way it forced her to depend on herself. What she describes is a place unlike any other. There are, of course, consequences, and Nielsen also reveals the conditions known to be brought on by the effects of the temperatures and high altitudes (including memory loss). But there was a camaraderie that one would never experience anywhere else, and I found myself sort of wishing I was a part of it. I also watched several movies, from a feature film to documentaries, about Antarctica, surrounding myself with all things Antarctic, if not the continent itself.

Which brings me back to vacationing in Antarctica. How do we make that happen? No need to actually stay there for long. Can't we just look at the pretty icebergs for a while? In fact, you can. Tourists visit through one of the 80 operators that are part of the International Association of Antarctica Tour Operators. Most travel by ship. But this is no cruise. These are special, ice-breaking kinds of ships, and they must go through some of the roughest waters in the world to reach even the more temperate islands and coastal regions (if you can call 50 degree highs temperate). And that's in the summer, November through March in the Southern hemisphere. There are special land tours and sightseeing by air as well (there are no paved runways on Antarctica, so make sure they don't let the new guy land). Again, that's only during the summer, as everything would freeze up if planes tried to go in and out during the winter. Most tourists keep accomodations on the boat, where operators take them on excursions to the land. There are no hotels, so you'll be back on the boat at night. They take preservation of the continent very seriously, so expect to clean off your boots before stepping onto land to avoid carrying seeds, dirt, or other contaminates with you. And you'll be taking all waste back with you. Just a heads up. But is it worth it? In 2006, more than 25,000 tourists visited Antarctica, so most likely, yeah, it's worth it.

What an incredible place! It occurs to me that there's no where else that has prompted such cooperation among the nations of the world, people from all over living in harmony with respect for each other and for the land. My delicate sensibilities will keep me from ever actually, you know, working there, but perhaps one day I can wave to those who do from the heated cabin of my airplane.