Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Alex should have left Concordia today on his homeward journey. His personal laptop broke last week so this is all he wrote via smartphone:
Leaving tommorow am.
The next ESA-sponsored medical research doctor will leave for Concordia 21 November from Paris. Watch this space for more info.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Alex writes: The radio buzzed: 5 minutes until the arrival of the plane, 40 minutes earlier than expected. Antarctica has never been one to throw such surprises, usually we have to deal with unexpected delays.
The winter crew scrambled. Outside, I heard a new noise so foreign to my ears it felt like meeting an old childhood friend - the sound of distant propeller engines humming over the Great White Silence. The sun blazed overhead and with only a mild wind, the station's exhaust willowed out, hanging over the area adding mystique to this life event.
The first plane to break our period of complete isolation in 9 months had arrived, to the day.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Winter finally broke and so did our team's winter coat. Around 10 new arrivals embarked from the plane which arrived from the Italian Coastal Station, some old faces and some news ones - all welcomed - injecting a new energy, saturation and definition into our drawn-out lives. Within two hours, everything changed. It was summer on the station at last, beckoning new life on the base. Until this time, we had all been hanging on, holding our breaths.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Importantly, there were around 40 other special guests who we had been expecting for the past months and very much looking forward to... 40 boxes of fresh produce that is. When unpacking and rehousing the fresh produce, I saw one winter crew member take out a single kiwi and slide it into his pocket. I understandingly caught a shine of guilt in his eye, as I did exactly the same. It reminded me of summers spent in India as a child, where such a simple taken-for-granted luxury for one person can mean the world to someone else.
Despite the excitement, a few of winter crew retired and retreated to our rooms for a short sleep, overwhelmed perhaps by it all.
Lunch was surreal, as if a dream- there was nothing like the fresh crunch of salad, the mouth-watering delight of real tomato, and to finish off, the bite of a fresh apple. We had gotten used to removing half a centimetre of our stale apple’s skin and below, where they had festered during the long winter.
Slowly, memories of colour, taste and our former selves returned - with the tidal wave of change, we winter-over crew members all changed also. People started to reform the characters I had remembered before winter had began, albeit more tired and pale. Bartender, I'll have a round of deep and heavy relieving sighs followed by a round of smiles for everyone still standing.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
The un-acclimatised newcomers who silently struggle on the station's stairs starved of oxygen, victims of the Antarctic Plateau's thin atmosphere. I noticed a new air among my fellow winter crew members, all of whom seemed to breathe easier.
Ultimately the Antarctic winter dwindles you down to operating on reserves for survival but it is good to know we are all still standing. No words can describe the past years’ worth of experiences - all of which, as a crew of 13, we are extremely fortunate and privileged to carry for the rest of our lives knowing we survived, together, the worst winter available anywhere in the world.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Alex writes: Although days have become longer with the return of the Sun, our days have also become busier with the imminent arrival of our first plane after nearly 9 months of living here alone as a team of 13. We have been feverishly cleaning the base and preparing the 2km long snow runway.
My research finished this week, which whilst being a relief also has created new jobs. I have to clean my lab for the next Research MD and pack equipment, samples and results to send back to civilisation for processing. Not everyone chose to take part, the research is voluntary and some people simply don't have time or choose not to participate. I managed to keep everyone who started at the beginning of the year, which during the winter period is particularly challenging. Some members of the team began to fatigue and tire, and so too did their enthusiasm. I am looking forward to seeing the results.
For each of us it has been a long, eventful and hard year in different ways. I am sure some of us will remain in contact for the rest of our lives and already have made plans to meet up in the future. But right now our immediate post-Concordia plans take priority and are filling our imaginations - mainly involving travel to far-flung, warmer climates and eventually homeward bound.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Some team members made wooden sign posts, each stating the distance to their home town, and we put them up not far from the base - featured in the picture are colleagues Sebastien Aubin (French glaciologist) and Bruno Limouzy (French station mechanic). It is 16,547 km to my home town, Whaley Bridge, in rural England. And what a voyage home awaits me! But I will be home for Christmas.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
I will not be leaving first among our winter-over group members, but had asked to leave as early as possible, having been honoured to be considered a second winter on the ice, as team member for Sir Ranulph Fiennes transantarctic journey. I settled instead for a home team place, helping to organise human science research, White Mars, for this epic and historic undertaking. This leaves next year free for my own planning with friends and family - there is much to finish and much to start. However, I am exceedingly grateful for my early departure - which is well planned since I will be returning to the Antarctic ice, at the end of December to feature in a television documentary. Long after that, I should be in Central Southern Africa teaching and continuing other research, furthering my growing interest in physiology and tropical medicine.
I have been approached by several groups in different countries who would like me to exhibit my photos from the past 10 years travelling and I hope I can pursue that as a new hobby. Even on the way home I will be giving several lectures. With plans afoot to spend a couple of weeks with my partner in New Zealand also - no doubt time will fly by.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
It will be strange to be able to breathe freely again, to smell and taste and hear new things. I have only seen 12 other people for the better part of a year. How utterly disconcerting it will be to stand in Piccadilly Circus in London on a busy street corner with hundreds of people flying by.
I guess the hardest part for me this year, alongside being the only English national on the base was having to do two jobs - both as Research MD and Station medical doctor. This was the first time this has happened here and I hope it will be the last- there is normally a separate station doctor.
In the latter role, it wasn't always quiet on the Southern front, with several medical events and illnesses to deal with. Although feeling a little tired and having battled through some desperate times, I am energised for my next adventures, research and returning to clinical medicine, in warmer climates. This is the longest medical oncall I have ever done - 9 months in total - never again will I moan about a week of night shifts in Anaesthetics or Emergency Medicine back in Oxford.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
I only wish the job role had been for me as easy and as well-defined as it was for my predecessors- this year I was not as lucky as my predecessors in this respect. Still, having adhered to this year's team motto, as a young 28 year old doctor, I took on and fulfilled this role, and in the spirit of my hero Dr Edward Wilson (first doctor to reach the South Pole and similarly aged on his first expedition to Antarctica) I "kept calm and carried on" regardless and tried to keep up my sense of humour throughout. Everyone is still standing now - my main aim for my medical role - where people have acknowledged the very difficult role. Though I am still smiling, I am not sure how.
In reflecting on my year here, I started thinking about what I have missed the most this year and have dwindled the list down to: the sound and feeling of rain on my face (as any Englishman), the smell of cut grass, a cold glass of fresh milk and more than anything a hot bath.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
People say that being marooned in the Antarctic winter is like living in a 'goldfish bowl' - their point being that you only have your own restricted view on the inside and in that may find it difficult to make balanced decisions. They may have a point. But in fact unless you swim around down here during the Antarctic winter, only then do you realise you can see outside also and have a heightened view and easier ability to see a larger and wider picture, elegantly exacerbated by the curved glass. Concordia has, in removing me from civilisation where sometimes it is harder to step back, enabled me to see the bigger picture, provide a unique experience and reminded me of somethings, setting a course and direction for the future. Now there are many more opportunities and plans afoot but these have to remain a secret for the time-being. With a huge expedition planned in the distant future and a return to the Arctic planned too - a place I consider to be a second home.
I think once you come to Antarctica, drawn to it under a spell like a seaman to a mermaid, you never can break the link you form with this raw, rugged and ruthlessly beautiful and enticing continent. I look forward to taking her on, in 2014 I will cross Antarctica on foot, and in doing so our team of 6 will complete Shackleton's planned route in its entirety for the first time, 100 years on since his lucky great escape from the clutches of this unforgiving continent. This continent is a place of dreams and nightmares and furthermore I have found wintering to have been one of the greatest journeys in the world, a
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
psychological marathon. One can never understand or know the Antarctic winter, until you see it, live it and experience the best and worst it has to offer. Simply speaking, using Charles Dickens words, this year has been 'the best of times and the worst of times'.
Less than a month now before I leave the ice... in the meantime, I have a room to clear out, a lab to pack up, a few postcards to send, a family to get home to and a naughty mischievous husky puppy to run up in Scotland on my return - a promise I made a year ago. I am exceedingly grateful for the opportunity I had to come down here and experience life at this extreme and more so, will be exceedingly privileged to be able to share it, alongside other adventures, with schools, societies and exhibitions, inspiring the next generation of hivernauts, explorers and scientists.
Happy Christmas everyone (soon)!
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Alex wrote this entry for the New York Times blog: I coined the term Planet Concordia to describe my own “alien” feeling while living here at Concordia Station. Walking around down here sometimes feels like you are on the surface of the moon or some other distant planet. You really don’t feel like you are still on Earth — and if you are, you are living back in the ice age. These can be dangerous and overpowering sensations to deal with, especially in the Antarctic winter darkness. And that holds true even at this time of year, when the temperature can be erratic but is expected to start increasing again after many months below minus-60 degrees Celsius (minus-76 Fahrenheit).
Taken today Sebastien Aubin and Alexander Kumar in the Antarctica. Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
"The richest man in the world couldn't have bought our Antarctic sunset tonight..."
- A. Kumar
Credits: A. Kumar
Alex continues his blogging for the New York Times. Read his latest article on his next Antarctic endeavour:
Alongside my unusual day job, I have recently been beavering away, creating a substantial human science research project for Sir Ranulph Fiennes’s coming Antarctica winter expedition, in partnership with Michael Stroud, physician, world-renowned extreme physiologist and a member of the Order of the British Empire.
Dr. Stroud, who has overwintered in Antarctica and joined Sir Ranulph on many of his expeditions, including crossing Antarctica on foot for the first time, had invited me to help organize the human science research to be carried out onboard the coming Trans-Antarctic winter crossing.
Living through the “worst winter in the world” over the past year at Concordia Station, I know exactly what the team will face, as well as what would be possible in terms of science.
Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Kumar
Did you read Alex's blog entry for the New York Times onThe Coldest Journey?
This week, Sir Ranulph Fiennes, the world’s greatest living explorer, released details of his latest undertaking.
Departing at the end of the year, Sir Ranulph will lead a team of six explorers, including Brian Newham, Ian Prickett and Spencer Smirl, to make the first crossing of the continent of Antarctica during the Antarctic winter. This is one of the last great journeys remaining on our planet.
The second part of Alex's views on travel to Mars:
Much like the interior of Antarctica, Mars remains inhospitable.
For humans to live on the planet for any significant period of time would require the recycling of water and air, along with other so-called "life systems".
At Concordia station in Antarctica (my current home) we use "grey water recycling" - taking the water generated from domestic activities such as laundry, bathing and dishwashing and recycling it on-site for other uses.This mirrors the system used on the International Space Station (ISS).
But there are even grander ideas that could further extend the duration of human habitation on Mars.
Alex wrote a two piece article for the BBC on human exploration of Mars with quotes from ESA astronaut Tim Peake and Mars-500 participant Charles Romain. Read the follow-up Saturday 22 September.
Concordia, similar to the Red Planet? Credits: A. Kumar
Just how far are we from mounting a crewed mission to the Red Planet?
It's a question I ponder as I stare into a powerful telescope and see a reddish hue in the surrounding darkness.
I have been overwintering at the French-Italian outpost of Concordia station in Antarctica, which is also used to study how humans might one day survive a trip to the Red Planet.
My eyes begin to freeze and my eyelashes become matted together with ice. I dig my hands deeper, further into my pockets seeking warmth.
Credits: A. Kumar
Alex wrote this for the New York Times:
Living in Antarctica in what I call the Worst Winter in the World can be likened to living through the ice age — surrounded by ice, in extreme temperatures, reliant on available food and warmth for survival. Living in the darkness, with various sleep difficulties, I have observed and documented changes in my own and fellow crew members’ day-night cycles over the past eight months, and I have noticed a strange change in my perception in the passing of time.
Continue reading via New York Times...
