Category Archives: Travel

February 2011 – last aircraft

Domenico Romano, astrophysicist and glaciologist, spent the winter at Concordia in 2011. Specially for this blog he wrote about the last aircraft leaving, signalling the start of the long winter.

Credits: IPEV/PNRA-D. Romano

The arrival of February marks the end of the summer campaign in Concordia. Most of the logistics personnel start leaving the base and human presence is reduced from 60 people to around 20 in just a few days. Among these 20 people are the crew that stay on for the whole winter. The workload intensifies in the run-up to the last plane departure.

Vehicles are stored safely in a cave called the Tubosider, as vehicles cannot be used in the winter due to the fuel freezing. The Tubosider is sealed using a large excavator that compacts ice at the cave’s entrance to prevent snow coming in during the winter storms to come. The excavator is the only vehicle to withstand the harsh temperatures of winter. Its operation is crucial, as the machine and its operator are required for Concordia’s drinking water. The excavator takes snow from specially reserved areas and puts them in a melting tank to melt the ice into water through a system of heaters.

Long shadows from low Sun. Credits: IPEV/PNRA-D. Romano

As February progresses the shadows of the two towers become longer. The Sun, after three months of permanent presence, starts to touch the horizon. After many weeks of living under an intense blue the sky starts to be painted with a yellowish reflection reminiscent of sunsets at home. The Antarctic plateau indulges the viewer with whims of light and colour with shades ranging from blue to red. In a few days the Concordia crew will experience their first sunset.

Those who remain have conflicting emotions. On the one hand there is the desire to finally begin the winter adventure, as a spaceship crew might feel as it leaves the safe harbour of Earth-orbit. Once the last plane leaves, there is no chance to leave Concordia. We were well aware that everything depended on us and it was our responsibility to make sure that all went well.

On the other hand there is the sadness of saying goodbye to the people with whom we joked, discussed and worked with side-by-side for weeks. Inevitably bonds were formed. Some of the departing crew we would see again in nine months.

Last aircraft to leave Concordia in 2011. Credits: IPEV/PNRA-D. Romano

The departure arrived early in the morning. Farewells required a bit of time, final instructions were given to the wintering crew and some of us gave items to be delivered to loved ones.

Shortly after the door closed of the historic DC-3 Dakota aircraft (seeing it from the outside makes it looks more spacious than it actually is) the noise of the first propeller-engine became deafening. Standing in our suits with our hands held high in greeting, the second propeller started spinning and a cloud of dusty ice rose behind the aircraft. The sound of the engines became more acute, a sign that it has increased speed and a few minutes later the plane was on the runway waiting for a "go-fly" from the radio room.

The roar of the engines increased even more and the aircraft accelerates on its runway ice rink. More than a kilometre later it lifted off the ground, climbed and, following tradition, made a wide turn back above Dome C to greet us.

Before realising it, the plane moved away to the point of no longer being visible. In Concordia, the clock registered 10:47 on 5 February 2011. 17:47 Italian time, winterover starts now. We knew that, in case of emergency, we could be retrieved up to the end of February by a special flight from McMurdo station. We are not quite yet in total isolation.

Winter crew 2011. Credits: IPEV/PNRA-D. Romano

Being the only ones left propelled us for the first time into what was to be our everyday life for the next nine months and we related differently to the base and its spaces in the new situation.

An hour later, tables and chairs were moved to the living room, where during the summer we enjoyed a little relaxation after a meal, chatting and having our weekly meetings. From then on the space was used for dining. A toast to the winterover crew.

First winter meal. Credits: IPEV/PNRA-D. Romano

Getting to Concordia is never easy

Stopover for refuelling on the last leg of the journey. Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - E. Kaimakamis

The new ESA-sponsored medical research doctor for Concordia, Evangelos Kaimakamis, arrived on 22 January. We decided to wait before posting his first blog entry, written shortly after his arrival, due to the plane crash in Antarctica late January. This crash is proof if any was needed that Antarctica is a harsh and dangerous continent. Our thoughts go out to the people and family involved in the crash and all who work on Antarctica.

After a really long and tiring journey that took me from my home country, Greece, via Frankfurt, Singapore, Sidney, Christchurch in New Zealand to McMurdo base in Antarctica. From there my journey continued to Terra Nova base, where I stayed for a week due to weather conditions. Now I have finally arrived at Concordia base! During the last nine days I accumulated 35 flight hours – the last few hours where on aircraft with skis landing on snowstrips in the middle of nowhere!

Adélie Penguin at Terra Nova Bay, Antarctica. Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - E. Kaimakamis

The trip itself was an adventure, so I can only imagine how challenging it will be staying here for the winterover. The diversity of the landscape was also a unique experience: From the first tabular icebergs spotted when flying over the outskirts of Antarctica, the close encounters with penguins, sea Skuas and seals at Terra Nova Bay to the vast areas of totally level white surfaces at Dome C. The visibility is extraordinary and I keep thinking about the starry nights over Concordia in a few months!

Concordia base is situated on an icy plateau with an elevation of 3233 m which is equivalent to 3700m at lower latitudes, which simply means that there is not enough oxygen in the air for normal levels of activity. I have to get used to breathing a little heavier and getting tired easier, at least until my body compensates for these conditions. It is also quite cold here, for example the current temperature is -33^oC with a windchill of -44^oC! You notice the cold wind as soon as you get out of the aircraft on arrival!

White vista at Concordia base. Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - E. Kaimakamis

Another amazing fact (at least for someone coming from a Mediterranean country) is that the sun never sets during the day at this time of year. You can go out for a walk in broad daylight at 4 am! Presently the station is a beehive of more than 50 people living and performing their tasks, but from the beginning of February only 15 people will stay here until the end of the year.

Concordia base. Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - E. Kaimakamis

Living and working in such conditions plus dealing with the effects of constant darkness and isolation during the winterover is definitely an achievement but also a matter of great scientific interest. Concordia is one of the most appropriate places on Earth to simulate bases in other planets such as the moon or Mars and conclusions drawn here from biomedical experiments can help astronauts in future space missions but also people living and working in extreme and confined places on our planet. This is why every year ESA sponsors a research medical doctor to be part of the winterover crew at Concordia and study the effects of all these adverse parameters to the human body and mind. This year I have the honour and responsibility to be part of this research campaign and get a little taste of the life of the original Antarctic explorers. So here I am standing some tens of thousands of kilometres away from my home and family, making new friends, living in a continent of excessive beauty and wilderness and feeling a bit out of our planet as I used to contemplate it.

Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - E. Kaimakamis

Let us begin the scientific work and live up to the challenge!

A privilege to live in the coldest most remote place on the face of the Earth

Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Salam

ESA-sponsored medical research doctor Alex Salam spent 13 months at Concordia in 2009.This is part one of his memories.

I was privileged enough to spend over a year at Concordia station in 2009. Many people might find the use of the word “privilege” in this context strange - a context that included three months of complete darkness, life with only 11 other souls, temperatures below -80C, no possibility of evacuation or deliveries for nine months and no access to the internet (internet access has only become easily available at Concordia this year).

There are however very few words other than privilege to describe how I felt whenever I stepped outside and repeatedly realised that that I was experiencing the closest thing there is to living on another planet.

The opportunity to spend a year of my life at Concordia presented itself as a perfect mix of circumstances. I had been working in a hospital since graduating in 2003 and was looking for a change of scenery. Antarctica had fascinated me for a while, both its history and its environment, but I had been hesitant about taking on a purely clinical role. ESA’s Concordia Research MD position was the right combination of research and extreme environment medicine in a totally alien landscape unlike any other in Antarctica.

Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Salam

When I stepped out of the Douglas DC3 twin-engine propeller aircraft onto the ice on December 5th 2008, what struck me the most was the vast, bleak, expanse of the high Antarctic plateau. The landscape has no topography, and there is not a single drop of life or natural color in the endless ocean of listless ice that surrounds the station for as far as the eye can see. There is nothing in the environment to remind you that you are still on Earth, a planet filled to the brim with flowing water, lush vegetation, geological wonders and wildlife.

It wasn’t until the last plane of the summer season left that the feeling of living on another planet fully hit home however. Concordia is extremely busy over the summer, full of hustle and bustle with planes arriving and people coming and going. Over the course of a couple of weeks around early February numbers begin to dwindle however, until eventually one day you find yourself huddled amongst a group of just twelve of you, struggling to keep track of the last plane as it gradually disappears into the desolate distance.

And then it really hits home: you're own your own, no matter what. This is when the adventure really begins, the challenge of living in a small group in a confined space, the sensory and social monotony that gradually builds up over several months, having to deal with medical and technical emergencies autonomously, prolonged separation from family and friends with limited telecommunications, and the inevitable darkness.

There are various ways of dealing with all these challenges. The most important thing is to stay busy. Boredom and monotony are the enemy. Thankfully I had a lot of work, but I also brought many books and had a number of personal projects and hobbies including photography and music. It is extremely easy to lose motivation over the course of the winter however, many people do, and choosing to focus your motivations on work, pre-existing hobbies or interests related to Antarctica is extremely important in this context. The darkness has a habit of sucking the motivation out of even the hardiest.

But despite the effects the darkness can have on sleep, mood and cognitive performance, there is something inherently special about the Antarctic night. The heavens present a view that many stargazers can only ever dream of. You just have to try and catch a glimpse of the stars before your eyelashes freeze together! Seeing the station from a distance with the Milky Way towering far above it never failed to make me feel both awe inspired and simultaneously insignificant.

Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Salam

This incredible landscape is just one of several reasons why some people decide to return to Concordia for another winterover. At first glance, such a decision seems like madness! But despite all the factors that make Concordia a difficult place to live in, there is an absence of some of the stressful situations present in ‘everyday’ life such as commuting, shopping, queues, bills, excessive choice, advertising and information overload, rules and regulations and so on. And although everyone feels some of the psychological and social stressors to a certain degree, some experience the absence of “normal” life very positively.

Indeed, with time most people who have spent a winter at Concordia (and often Antarctica in general) feel many positive effects associated with the privilege of having experienced one of the planet’s most spectacularly vast and daunting environments, such as: a profound sense of accomplishment, increased personal and professional confidence, a better tolerance and adaptation to stress, a clearer vision of one’s personal needs, limits and ambitions and a deeper appreciation of personal freedoms and the natural environment.

When people ask me if I would ever go back for another winterover, I usually answer that I wouldn’t. I could give a whole number of reasons, including “been there, done that”, but in truth I think reliving the experience a second time would take something away from the memories that I have, the uniqueness of the experience that I lived and the privilege I feel for having had the chance to spend a year of my life at Concordia. It’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to living on another planet.

Credits: ESA/IPEV/PNRA - A. Salam

Parting words

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.

Preparations for ‘re-entry’

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)!

The Journey to White Mars

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.

Midwinter celebrates a midway point of sorts

In the plane to Concordia. Credits: A. Kumar

Alex writes: I will never forget my journey to Concordia. The flight over Antarctica involves a stop between Dumont Duville and Concordia to refuel. The refuelling stops are known as Midpoint A/B/C. You land in a blanket of white - all around you is a flat white horizon.

You climb out of the hatch of the 'Twin Otter' airplane and stammer around in the relative hypoxia (lack of oxygen). Nothing survives there, it is just featureless ice. In a way it could have been heaven. You know you are half way somewhere, but know you still have a long way to go.

Credits: A. Kumar

Midwinter feels like this. We are half way into our wintering and period of darkness.

The next few months are going to be extremely difficult - our reserves are running low and the effects of the darkness and isolation will take more of a hold on the crew.

Outside Concordia. Credits: A. Kumar

We hit a high crescendo with midwinter celebrations, but the road ahead looks long and icy. The real test is yet to come. We have to remain a team. Only a team can survive in such extreme conditions. Everyone has their crucial role on the base.

To say thank you to the crew for taking part in the ESA research programme I got the Austrian research group 'ISOSTRESS' to send me T-shirts before I came out to Antarctica. The T-shirts bare the famous British motto 'Keep calm and carry on'. In Concordia you feel like you are fighting a battle for oxygen, for sleep, for survival. This is nature at its most extreme. It tests your mind and body.

This has become our crew's motto, endorsing this belief and attitude.

Keep calm and carry on! Concordia team photo.

Now it is back to business as usual. For me that is science. Over the coming weeks I will introduce you to not only my science and work, but also to my fellow crew members and their important, if vital, roles on the base - from the mechanic to the electrician to the plumber to the glaciologist and more! I hope to show you elements of the station and the way it works.

Feel free to add comments and questions. I will be happy to answer them and maybe we can all learn something along the way!

Here is to the next 5 months... if you are ever in doubt... do as we do, KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON!

Waking up in the dark

Credits: A. Kumar

Alex writes: The strangest feeling is waking up in the morning when its dark outside. You feel disorientated in time and place - even through the usual fog caused by hypoxia, it takes a few seconds longer to register where you are and more so, what time it is. I suppose this is how a bear feels when it digs its den and settles down to hibernate until spring.

Life quickly became concentrated in the base. Our master-chef Giorgio prepares breakfast, lunch and dinner at normal times keeping the station to a regular biorhythm of its own, but my saviour is my wrist watch. I bought it for only 8 euros and it has a light, alarm and stopwatch - everything you need. It has travelled with me on my wrist for almost 9 years, sailing through medical examinations, times zones, jungles, tents and even a war zone. It has outlived two pairs of walking boots and more pairs of underwear than I care to remember.

(more...)

Light at the end of the tunnel: our last sunset

Credits: A. Kumar

Alex writes: It has been a week since we saw our last sunset. I took some time out to enjoy and preserve this special time.

From now on things are going to be different. It will be more of a challenge trying to maintain a normal body clock.

I have been lucky to have witnessed spectacular sunsets around the world, from Pokhara lake in the Himalayas to Caribbean sunsets worthy of postcards.

I took a stroll and stood outside for a while to soak up the last rays. (more...)

Penguins from space

Credits: A. Kumar

Alex writes: Since arriving in Antarctica, I want to ask ESA astronaut and fellow doctor André Kuipers to wave to us as he flies by on board the International Space Station and ask him what he sees. I wonder if he has seen Emporer Penguins who are our companions here.

I arrived in Antarctica by ship and flew over the continent by air between the Dumont d'Urville, Mario Zucherelli and McMurdo stations. It was an incredible experience observing the continent from the air. (more...)