November 26, 1996

Paula Adkins Lake Hoare Camp Manager

I had a very deep sleep in my tent near the shores of Dirty Little Hoare (a pond in the middle of camp next to Lake Hoare). Once the generator had been switched off, the quietude was remarkable. The sound of my breathing and the gentle thud of my pulse in the carotid artery lulled me to sleep. Otherwise, there were no sounds at all--no wind, nothing. It snowed in the night and we all awoke to a dusting over the mountains and in the valley. In the morning, everyone was humming bars of "Waltzing in a Winter Wonderland" and commenting how strange it was to see falling snow: it just doesn't happen very often. I was to later learn that this snow storm was accompanied by very high winds out in McMurdo Sound, leaving the Penguin Ranch and Seal Camp in four foot drifts, with the penguin researchers having to dig themselves out of their tents!

With little sun and some wind, I decided to set up an aeolian harp to get some of the whistling wind down the valleys. Afterall, this is one of the few sounds heard in the valley; and, it seemed as though the glaciers were pretty quiet, posed over camp in a kind of suspended animation. My good friend, former teacher and sound artist, Richard Lerman, had developed a technique for designing wind harps using piezoelectric transducers--a common variety of transducer that is found in watches and video games, where they function as buzzers or beepers. They also work well as contact microphones. For those interested in his designs, please check out the Experimental Musical Instruments, Volume 10 #2, December, 1994 issue of the magazine for an in-depth article and schematics for how to build these. I arranged an array of several transducers with piano wire and guitar strings attached to rocks on the one end and to a wooden cargo box on the other: the cargo box provided a nice, deep resonant chamber.

Click to listen to a sample of wind coming down through Taylor Valley

As the day wore on, it looked like we were in for more overcast skies and possibly more snow. I turned my hand at some cooking; Paula, for her part, is usually on for the evening meal. I took the lull in my schedule as a way to chip in and kick around camp for awhile. She was grateful for the help and together we made a batch of lasagne--enough to feed the 11 people in camp for several days! In addition to Paula Adkins, Paul Langevin, Nate Booth and Dave Kasmer, there were a number of other researchers who call Lake Hoare home. Dale Andersen, out of NASA at Moffett Field in California, has been coming to the Dry Valleys since the late 70s. His work has focused on the microbial communites in the lakes. Ray Kepner, from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, has been working with Robert Wharton and Dale on lake mats. Peter Doran, a Canadian researcher from Toronto, has joined them in addition to two Kiwis--Robert Smith and Ian Hawes from Christchurch. Finally, Emily Roberts, from Sheffield, England is conducting work on microinvertebrates.

Doug's tent beside Lake Hoare.

Dinner time is a nice community gathering and the days events are shared as well as stories of field experiences past. On this evening for dessert, Rob introduced us all to a powdered custard mix that also provided some of the evening's entertainment. When mixed with a little water, the custard mix has both a solid and liquid state; when handled lightly (as we all did play with our food), it pours as a rather viscous fluid. If suddenly, or forcefully handled, it "morphs" into a jello-like solid. Great fun was had by all--and it was tasty! The other sport for the evening was a course in knot tying. Paula had learned how to make knots that could be used for ornatmental zipper pulls on our parkas. The next several days saw various attempts at zippers pulls, with bits and pieces of cord lying around the hut. Paula, having forgotten a key manoeuver in a knot, had to call "dial-a-knot" back in McMurdo (see above). That was a call to Juan Laden whose many talents include knot tying.

I went to bed with an evening chill in my tent--expecting ice crystals to form over my head. I had my down-lined boots on, thermal underwear and was bundled up in my sleeping bag liner, in my mummy bag--with a little air vent to breathe. It seemed to warm up during the night, however, and before long I had twisted myself into a sweaty knot and was gasping for air having buried my face in the bag. Ah yes, the joys of camping...