Sailing North

Wandering Albatross


Leaving behind the small clutch of winterers alone on the ice, the Shackleton made good speed through the Stancomb-Wills ice stream, where one of the largest glaciers in Dronning Maud Land meets the sea, creating icebergs as it does so. March is late in the season to be sailing so far South and there was good evidence of sea ice thick enough to walk on for several days sail.

Snow Petrel


However, a decent storm made the passage easier breaking up the ice and making passage easier. Well, easier in some respects for the winds and rolling seas consigned most of the departing passengers to our bunks.

Another Wandering Albatross


'Our bunks', as for the first time ever I found myself suffering from the intractable nausea that plagues many who sail on the Shackleton, as it corkscrews through the Southern Ocean; the shape of its ice-strengthened hull predisposes it to an unpleasant rolling motion. I never had a problem on the long sail South even during the longer period we spent sailing between the sub-Antarctic islands; I suspect I will have more sympathy in future.

Frozen Winch Gear
With it well below zero sea spray freezes across the ship


After a few days of rough weather- during which I struggled to help with the indent of the ship's surgery before it sails into the North Sea for its summer work- the skies cleared, the wind dropped and albatross appeared trailing behind the ship.

Diomedea exulans- Wandering albatross


Its difficult to capture photographically just how large the Wanderers are, they have the greatest wingspan of any bird on earth, ranging upward from 10 - 12 foot across and watching them, they seem to soar for ever, without once beating their wings.

Yet More Albatross

I was very fortunate to visit one of their breeding sites, at Bird Island, South Georgia, on the way South, where amongst part of the BAS station's research work is the long-term monitoring of their numbers. Sailing north as we were to Cape Town, we were a long way from any islands yet albatross will quite happily travel across the whole length of the Southern Ocean without touching land.

Light-Mantled Sooty Albatross
Wanderers were not the only birds to follow us north


Unfortunately, of the 21 albatross species, 19 are considered threatened, the Wanderers particularly are vulnerable with only 8,000 breeding pairs, many of which nest on Bird Island. One of the greatest threats comes from long-line fishing, where trawlers trail long baited and hooked lines, which unfortunately attract not only fish but also a large variety of birds- often fatally. For more information about the threat to these spectacular birds and what can be done to protect them- Save The Albatross.

Evening Light Catches The Wanderer


'And a good south wind sprung up behind;
The Albatross did follow'

I am not enough of an aficionado to tell whether all these photos are of the same albatross or whether over the several days that they hovered comfortably over the stern of the ship, we were visited by several different birds. As we headed north, circuit training on the ships heli-deck was made all the more unusual by the bird's presence overhead.

Even More Albatross


I have been away for 18 months now and it has been a fantastic period of time and I have learnt and done a lot, some of which is already making the news. (The photographs might be similar to some of those on this blog). As South Africa approaches so the temperatures rises and the Antarctic seems far behind. With Cape Town my job comes to an end and with it this blog. It will be a few weeks yet before I am back in the UK, as I am going to have a short holiday but I look forward to seeing everyone- for regardless of the material and slightly less tangible things that I have missed (which includes rain), it is friends and family that I have missed the most.

The Moon

I have been incredibly privileged to work somewhere so incredibly beautiful and untouched by man. I only hope that we can continue to protect and preserve the Antarctic as one of the last great wildernesses. However, the effects of climate change are already all too visible and that will ultimately be detrimental not only to the Antarctic but across the globe. We, as individuals, need to take responsibility for that now before it is too late.

Cape Town
My final destination

The Last Few Days

The Memorial


My last post from Halley has come around all too quickly, two summers and a winter have passed and it is time for me to head north, leaving the Antarctic far behind. The last few days were a great reminder, however, of why I enjoy this place so much.


With too many people on station to sail out to Cape Town on the Shackleton, a pair of Balser flights took a large number out flying them out across Dronning Maud Land. On the flights disappeared a large number of those who had wintered with me, they were in Cape Town enjoying salads and cocktails within the day. They were soon missed.

De-icing the Basler's Wings


However, the problems with flying this late in the season were only too apparent, the Antarctic winter is fast approaching and with temperatures dropping and bad weather increasing, the time-frame for flying plane starts to rapidly narrow. Moreover, with the low temperatures sea ice starts to form again and the escape routes north out of the Weddell Sea rapidly disappear.

Sunsets Over The Fully Clad Podule


For me, however, the last week or so was a fantastic opportunity to spend time on base when at its most beautiful. For Halley has a very different feel between both the summer and the winter, not just in the number of people, the weather and the obvious contrast in day length but more subtle aspects such as the colours, the quality of the light and the stillness. Halley is a place that is very much more beautiful in the winter than the summer.

The Tag Board
Brass tags for winterers, wood for summer staff


With little time left there was a rush to document the seemingly routine things on base that make it so different from the outside world. Items like the tag board, where each individual is represented by a different tag so that, particularly during the winter, you can be accounted for immediately in case of a fire. The board is accompanied by a sign-out book in which the time expected back is also completed, such that an attraction of leaving here (and there are a few), is the freedom to go somewhere without having to indicate where or the need to carry a VHF radio.

Halley VI and V
Karl (Project Manager) gives a sense of scale to the new base.


Other things that will not necessarily be missed are items like Nido, the replacement milk powder and the all-pervasive smell of AVTUR (the generic diesel based fuel)- though even that I have learnt to love. I guess that after friends and family, I suppose what I am most looking forward to are food items: salads, real milk, crisp fresh fruit and seafood, not just for their flavours but their textures too.

Inside the Ice Cave
Photo thanks to Richard Burt


A last minute boon was a plan on the penultimate night to sleep in an ice cave that had been painstakingly excavated across the summer in the windtail of the CASLab. The last ice feature we dug, several months back for Ant's birthday, had rapidly filled in with drifting snow. This latest one meanwhile had plenty of space for three of us to bed down for a comfortable night's sleep; they insulate their heat remarkably well and the cavern was well above the external -25°C.

Rich Burt in the Ice Cavern


I was fortunate to be on the last Sno-Cat transfer down to the ship and with the slightly premature departure of the last flight to make the best use of a weather window, it meant a final night on a very quiet base. The new wintering team are only eleven compared to the eighteen from our year (with only Deano (Comms Manager), staying on for a second winter), it will have a very different feel to our relatively large team

Last Melt Tank Dig


A beautiful sunset, a few final outdoor jobs to be done and without the bustle of a large number of people, it all contributed to the ambience of a typical winter's day at Halley. Having consigned all my luggage that will sail home in the hold of the ship a week before, it was easy to enjoy without the pressure of last minute packing of my bags.

Final Ships Cargo
Hasty labelling of northbound boxes


Despite my absence of skis on the ship, the weather and the light was too perfect not to take a pair of base skis and spend an hour on the perimeter. I know all too well how much I will miss Halley, particularly standing in the semi-darkness, alone, in the middle of the Antarctic.

Panorama from the North of Base
Click to enlarge


With limited daylight and a need to get round the Stancomb-Wills ice stream in good light, it was an early start with a procession of Sno-Cats taking the last five of us to join the ship and the majority of the new winterers to release the ships mooring lines and wave goodbye. For us Cape Town should be less than a fortnight's sail away.

Leaving Halley


I would quite happily have swapped my place on the ship with any one of the small handful of people standing on the ice, waving as water appeared between us and the ice shelf. They will, I am sure, have a fantastic winter, I just wish I was spending it with them.

Leaving Creek 4
The winterers see us off