A Very McMurdo Christmas

 Y'all, I love Christmas. It's my favorite time of the year, I'm enthusiastic about all of it—the lights, the cookies, the gifts, the music, and of course, the Reason for the Season, the birth of Jesus. But all that to say that I'm always excited to celebrate Christmas, and while I always like to spend the holiday with my family, I can make the best of a real McMurdo Christmas.

While we're not as bad as supermarkets putting out Christmas decorations before Halloween, the Christmas spirit had taken hold immediately after Thanksgiving. Dorm doors were getting decorated, Christmas movies were on the station TV channels, and Christmas music was playing over the various kitchen speakers. I myself was definitely annoying some coworkers with my eclectic Christmas playlist. (I'm kind enough to wait until the day after Thanksgiving, but then they can't stop me.)

For a place that will take any opportunity to party, you know that holiday festivities were abounding. Every shift had some kind of movie night. So even for us midrats, the option to watch The Polar Express and Elf double feature in the coffee house was there. There were Christmas dance parties in the gym, Christmas themed workouts and yoga—because the holiday can't stop the gains—and one of my buddies made his own eggnog and mulled wine for a small get-together, in a process that it's probably best I not ask too many questions about.

The real active day for the station was actually Christmas Eve. This was when all the scheduled events were taking place. For me, Christmas Eve started at midnight, considering my weird sleep schedule, but I did have the 24th and 25th off, so that was nice. The first Christmas-y thing I did was attend the Christmas Eve service in the chapel. In keeping with the tradition of what my family calls "Chr-Easters," the chapel was more full than most Sundays. We sang a few Christmas carols, read the Christmas story from Luke, received a sermon about Simeon in the temple who gave a blessing for the newly born Jesus, and finally shared in Communion—using the Erebus Chalice no less!

(Holidays are when we bring out the good China.)

The real star of a McMurdo Christmas Eve, however, is the banquet. There's contention from those who've been here for a few seasons about which is better, the Thanksgiving meal or Christmas. But whatever side you might fall on, the food we got was phenomenal. Everyone in the main kitchen was putting in extra effort to get it all just right. Even the simple dishes like lemon risotto and herb green beans were very well done. The big draw were the entrees, of course. While the beef tenderloin was excellent, the most fun and unique addition were the crab legs and lobster tails. Now, I'm not typically a fan of lobster—it's more like a convenient way to eat more butter—but even I enjoyed the seafood. A bit of Surf and Turf is a great way to make a meal memorable.

(The lobster is sadly not freshly caught down here.)

But the real attraction of the banquet was the desserts. I've been singing the praises of our bakery in a number of articles now, but they really outdid themselves this time around. Any of you local might know about the Naevestad Christmas Open House and the sheer amount of cookies we've baked for it over the years. So when I say they made a lot of cookies, just know that I mean it. For a few days before the meal, there were volunteers in the bakery helping cook and decorate sugar and ginger bread cookies, truffles, cakes and pies, and more. And all that effort came through on the final product. Plates were loaded with confections of all kinds, and back at the table, I think all of us had at least one bowl loaded up with as much sugar as we thought we could manage. Every dessert was excellent, and all the remainders have been used in the cookie box so that the base can continue to enjoy the treats, even after the holiday.

(What my dentist doesn't know won't hurt me.)

Just like at Thanksgiving, the Galley team had a special meal time at noon so that those working didn't have to try and schedule breaks around the various dining times, and more importantly, so that we could all eat together as a department. Again like Thanksgiving, we quickly ruined the good work setting up the dining hall by dragging the tables all together to form one long family table that we all ate at. It was a glorious festival of laughter, jokes, shouting, toasts, and overindulgence that we all needed. Holidays away from home can be rough, but getting to share in it together was a great time.

(Fire codes are a suggestion.)

And to cap it all off, we even had a White Christmas. While most everything is covered in ice and snow, fluffy snow falling from the sky is a rarity. But the Good Lord saw fit to send us a gentle snowfall all the way into Christmas Day proper.

From all of us at McMurdo and the rest of the Antarctic stations, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

The Undying Spirit of Adventure and the Weirdos That Follow It

Coming to Antarctica is a pretty big commitment. It's at least six months of your life, often in some of the busiest months of the year. You're away from home and family, modern conveniences are absent, and any sense of normalcy is supplanted with work and ice. So what draws people to come down here and willingly put themselves through this?

Any look into the history of Antarctica will tell you the same thing: the spirit of adventure is a siren call for many. Antarctica is the wild unknown, and there's something in us humans that sees that as both terrifying and enchanting. To go somewhere that so few have been to and see it for yourself? The excitement is too much to resist.

That spirit of adventure is why so many of the recreation opportunities are outdoor. The hikes and ski trails let you see even more of the great unknown. Guided events (known as Boondoggles) take those whose job wouldn't let them out into the field and let them explore different parts of this unique continent. The desire to see as much of Antarctica as we can is a driving force. So many that I talked to say they're down here solely for the story: to brag to friends, to have another chapter in their travel log, to fulfill a lifelong dream. Adventure is still in all of us.

Some of us, though, have purely mercenary reasons for being here. While the pay isn't amazing, there're a few things that suddenly make it more tantalizing. There's no cost to travel down here. There's no food or housing cost. No utility bills or home repairs. A lot of what we have to worry about back home in our apartment or house isn't a concern here. With so little overhead, it's mostly profit from whatever you get paid. I've been making extra payments on my student loans, as well as donations to charity events that my friends have been running. Others I know are using the funds to further the things that bring them joy. One of my friends is an intense hiker. He's already hiked from Mexico to Canada, across the entire United States. He's saving to make a hike from the top of New Zealand to the bottom. And after that, maybe a kayak trip up the west coast of the US to Alaska. If you have a dream, this could be a good stepping stone toward it.

Others have their personal reasons to be here. One of my favorite stories is from a buddy I work with. For years now, his parents have told him that he could inherit their restaurant once they retire. And he's been waiting. But every time it's, "Maybe next year." Well, waiting was only going to go so far. So he made the move for independence and came down here. He's not going to put his life on hold for promises that are more like maybes. I've talked to more with similar stories: the need to wipe the slate clean, reset, and eventually return to life and try something new.

For another, it's almost a family tradition. Her son came down in 2009 and told her and her husband that they both would enjoy being down here. So she sent her husband down on a scouting mission in 2014, and the two of them have been coming down together since 2016. She's been a wealth of knowledge about how McMurdo and the program has changed and grown over the years. Many people are like her; they knew someone who came down and shared their experience, and that made them want to come down as well.

The one unifying theme I hear from those who keep coming back is that they return for the people. I've spent most of this article listing out the various kinds of weirdos that come down, and the fact is that most of us weirdos connect with other weirdos and want to stay in community. Many I've met talk about the friends they've made down here and the group texts, Facebook groups, and annual meetups that they continue to share. Whatever you feel about the work, it's the people that really make a job feel like an experience.

And then there's that one coworker I have who just really liked The Thing.

And to the Ends of the Earth - Acts 1:8

I brought my Bible with me to Antarctica. It was given to me by a mentor and is one of my favorite translations. I expected any time spent focused on my faith would be by myself. So imagine my surprise when I learned about The Chapel of the Snows, the southernmost dedicated religious building in the world. With regular Sunday services and Bible studies, I was impressed to see that the Gospel was at work even at the edge of the world.

(Future tattoo idea?)

The chapel is probably my favorite place on base, if only for the aesthetics. Whoever designed the layout knew exactly where to put the chapel so that it was at the heart of everything, and at the most picturesque location. On clear and sunny days you can see most of the mountain range across the horizon. The building itself looks like any country church, but against the backdrop of utilitarian science buildings and winter desert, it's a touch of life that I can't help but admire.

(When we still had sunsets)

We only have official leadership during the summer season. I came down on the Winter Fly-In, and Sunday service was more akin to a small group meeting, where one community member led and had a short devotional—either what they felt led to teach, or one from a book. Now that we're in the proper season, we have chaplains that come down on six week rotations. From what I gather, chaplains come from the Air Guard or the Naval Reserves. There used to be a partnership with the diocese of Christchurch for Catholic priests, but that has apparently been on hiatus. Our first official chaplain was Chaplain Ben, a Lutheran pastor back home, and the second one down is Chaplain Clark, a Southern Baptist.

With the lack of a proper priest, Sunday services have been noted as "inter-faith" services. I won't even try to comment on certain denominational differences, but down here the most important thing is that we're all believers in Jesus. The chapel is set up to accommodate different expressions of faith, including the Stations of the Cross and a prie-dieu prayer desk. We regularly use the naval hymnal, and on the US Navy's birthday, we sang the naval hymn, including a verse directly referencing those who serve in Antarctica. We also make use of the Worship Book, from A Christian Ministry in the National Parks (ACMNP), which is apparently a thing. I never knew.

While music is a big part of most services back home, here it's a crapshoot based on who happens to be on the Ice at any given time if we'll have music. Surprisingly, Steward, one of the guys I work with, has some background in organ music and can play the weird electric organ in the chapel, so he's been providing the music of late. But before him, it was mostly the awkward acapella that comes with no one knowing how to start a song and have people join in. I believe, in the biz, we call that "making a joyful noise." While there are other instruments available, including an electric keyboard, guitars, and tambourine, we usually default to YouTube worship music videos if the need arises.

The chapel is also a bit of a hub for local activities. While it is a Christian church, it also serves as home to other religious services, including the Jewish Shabbat and various meditation practices. There is an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting there every week, as well as the aforementioned Bible study. It served as the registration booth and finish line for the Antarctic Turkey Trot, and will likely serve again for the Antarctic Marathon. And if you just want to jam out on some of the instruments, I suppose that's allowed as well.

Finally, just a few fun facts for you about the Chapel and service down here:

• The original chapel was built in 1956 by the Seabees and was constructed mostly from scrap.
• It houses the Erebus Chalice, a gift to the National Science Foundation that was thought be aboard the HMS Erebus during the Ross Expedition in 1839, but was later discovered to have been made in 1910.
• Depending on the chaplain, we have plenty of items to go along with the church calendar. For All Saints' Day this year, I "lit" a candle down here for Howard, whom many of you might know from Saint Paul. While he had passed a few years ago now, I thought he would get a hardy chuckle knowing he was honored in Antarctica.
• And when  I say "lit" a candle, I mean turned on a battery operated one, because fire is banned in the chapel. The building has burned down twice since its inception, a feeling I'm sure many in the Epleyanna area might be familiar with.

There's a lot down here that makes you feel comfortable away from home: food, holidays, special events, etc. But for me, something that most keeps me going and like I'm not shut out from the world is connecting with those who share my faith and being a part of the community of believers, even at the ends of the earth.

I'm also really excited for what the Christmas service is going to be like.

Williams Field: Show Up and Improvise

McMurdo might be the big hub for us, but there are many branches that grow off the main base. Field camps, research stations, and temporary operating bases are vital to supporting the research and discovery work that goes on down here. And all of them need to eat. For the past couple of weeks, and for what will be the rest of my season, I've had the good fortune to work at the newly rebuilt Williams Field.

Affectionately known as Willy Field, this is the replacement landing zone for the cargo planes coming down to the Ice. Despite the freezing cold, it does get to warm up in some fashion, and eventually the landing strip that is Phoenix Base gets too soft for the wheeled C-17 cargo planes. But C-130s, which are propeller driven, can be fitted with skis and are thus still able to land. So Williams Field gets set up each season before the snow softens to act as the new runway.

When I say "newly rebuilt" it's not because they made some vast improvements to the structures. Willy is one of those temporary operations bases and is set up and taken down every year. All the buildings are not much more than storage units or trailers. Thin and boxy, they manage to stay pretty warm. Every building is on a heavy-duty trailer with skis on the bottom. Each season the buildings are towed out to the landing strip and set up for habitation. In a week or two, a fully functioning air field is established, with maintenance facilities, fire house, guide towers, and of course, the kitchen.

Calling it a kitchen is being rather generous. I toured the USS Drum submarine a while back and having seen the kitchen on that, I think working at Willy is preparing me for life as an undersea cook. We're not equipped with much out there. We've got two ovens that are maybe a step or two above an Easy-Bake Oven, we've got a two burner hot pad that can almost boil water, two induction burners that only work with specific outlets (one that is located in the dining room) and don't work on aluminum pots (the only large one we have), and two table-top fryers that take twenty minutes to crisp up a batch of tater tots. All the same, we put out meals at all four meal times and lunch is our busiest time with upwards of sixty people coming through.

The way out to Willy is by the shuttles. Every day at the start of my shift, I catch the Willy shuttle with the front of house steward working that day and pile in as much of the boxes and trays of food we have to bring as we can. Storage is pretty limited at the Willy kitchen, and while we have a walk-in cooler and a standing freezer, it's hard to keep it stocked. So we have to be in constant communication back with the main kitchen and to each other each shift to know what we're missing and what will need to come out on the shuttle with us. Technology makes this...challenging, but even if we can't match the menu perfectly, as long as people are getting fed, that's the important part. That's the "improvise" part. If we don't have the material to make char siu pork for an Asian night, figure out what you can make with the little bit of leftovers and sauces you do have. Very often I don't know what I'm going to cook until I get there. It's some pressure, but I enjoy the opportunity to try.

But the real interest for me is not the work itself. Cooking is cooking at the end of the day. But the location is so fascinating. The shuttle takes us off the main land and onto the ice shelf. By the time we get to Willy, a whole section of the horizon just stretches into nothing. From behind you can see Mount Erebus and Castle Rock, and way off in the distance are more mountains. But when you imagine Antarctica as this flat wasteland of ice and wind, this place pretty well encapsulates that image.

Willy is probably not the place to work if you're a social butterfly—especially not on the midrats shift. I see next to no one on the regular, and even after work for me, most people are grabbing breakfast and heading off to work, so getting to talk with people is a limited opportunity. But for me, a hermit at heart, the freedom to do things your own way and reside mostly in solitude at the edge of the world, it fits perfectly.