January 23, 2000

Elephant seals hauled out behind the Bio Lab.

It was a crazy day of hurry up and wait. A large storm front spun slowly in the ocean west of Anvers Island. The "Lynns" debated if, and when, they might get out to check on their bird colonies--Cormorant, Christine, Humble and Torgersen. I listened carefully to Bill Fraser. In over 20 years of coming down to the ice, he seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to anticipating the weather. A look at the barometer, the wind speed and the satellite image seemed to indicate that we would be in for some meteorological excitement. The Laurence M. Gould is due to arrive on Wednesday--concluding aspects of the Long Term Ecological Research (LTER) field work for this season. Several other projects are wrapping up, as well. This means that equipment is scheduled to be retrieved from neighbouring islands and cargo packed for retrograde. Dan Lubin needs to collect his radiometers and the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty (CTBT) group have to dismantle their infrasonic arrays.

Adelie penguins at Torgersen Island.

With what turned out to be a temporary break in the weather, numerous zodiac parties scurried about Arthur Harbor and the surrounding islands. A group of us checked in with the Adelie penguin colony at Torgersen Island. Chrèching is in full swing, with chicks gathering into groups. Their downy grey fuzz is shedding as their first plummage is emerging. The birds will fledge soon, as summer is passing quickly. Despite the storms, the trend has been to warmer days--with temperatures rising to slightly above freezing. The guano at Torgersen is a thick, viscous soup--coloured a chalky pink from the krill they consume. The stench clings to the palette and the smell seems to be lodged into every corner of my recording equipment. I noticed that we all trod gingerly about the rocks--not wanting to take a slide!

Back at Station, a bunch of us had a good soak in the hot tub. It was a nice way to get the chill out of our bones, to say nothing of the smell. As we lounged about, enjoying a cup of tea, we witnessed the most impressive ice calving that I have seen here. A huge section of the Marr Ice Piedmont exploded off the face, falling as if in slow motion, sending up a cloud of spray and mist. As it crashed into the water, a wave could be seen propagating along the terminus and coming straight across Arthur Harbor in our direction. Steve Navarro eased back in the tub and, taking it all in, exclaimed, "Why, I bet you could surf that!" Within minutes the brash that had been blown against the shore below us heaved up in the swell--clanking and thudding against the rocks.