Prologue to the Final Journey

February is a time for anticipation at McMurdo. You can practically feel it in the air. Almost everyone is thinking about one thing: redeployment. I don't know why it's called that—another of those naming conventions that probably made sense 25 years ago—but redeployment is the time for everyone to go home. After being here for six months, I can attest that the thought of going home is what gets us through the day.

Leaving the Ice doesn't involve nearly as much paperwork as getting there, but there is still plenty that needs to be done, both personally and professionally. In January, they hosted a few meetings talking about how to leave, as well as what you might need to know when you get back to civilization. Despite being as far from civilization as possible, you can still get organized on things like unemployment and COBRA coverage. Even something simple like a business address needs to be cleared up. It would be hard to tell a future employer to contact your boss down the road from the penguin colony.

There's also everything involved in packing up and leaving your room. Despite it being home away from home for the past six months, you can't leave your things behind and move back in like it's your parents' house. Everything needs to be reset to how it was when you found it. For me, that's pretty easy, but for others, that's going to involve a lot of moving furniture. My roommate took a small desk from somewhere and had that next to his bed, so he had to move that out before he left. Others I know rearranged their entire rooms, pushing beds together, sectioning off the room with the cabinets, and other budget interior design. So that whoever lives in that room next doesn't have to deal with your warped sense of living aesthetic, everything needs to go back to the status quo. Although I'm sure some people left hidden stickers and trinkets around for others to find. That's just part of the fun of community living.

The real reason you could tell it was redeployment season, however, was because of the attitudes. For those of us not staying for winter, or even staying until late March in what is known as the Shoulder season, all anyone could talk about was what they'd be doing when they got home. For some of us, this was a one-off thing, something to fill the time while we sort out life, or another contract job between other seasonal work. For others, this is what they do for work, so when they're off Ice, it's adventure time. They live life six months on, six months off, and have balanced their situations around Ice life. 

For many who are done with their season, they're looking to travel. We don't have to fly back immediately when we reach Christchurch. I think by now the program knows that people will want to make the most of their opportunity, and exploring New Zealand is an attractive offer for many. I have a group of three friends that are renting a car together and driving all the way to the north island, then to the south island, and returning to Christchurch. One woman I worked with is having her mom fly down to New Zealand and the two of them are going to explore to their heart's content. Another friend wants to get back to the states as quickly as possible, because he's got a flight to Japan a few days after getting back. Still another got a ticket to participate in a big Iron Man race that apparently is rather exclusive, and she's pumped for that.

Some of them are using their downtime to polish up new skills so they can come back and do something new on the Ice. One friend is getting certified in ham radio and its installation so that he can work on the communications relay team down here. Another wants to get familiar with the way the helicopter team works down here so he can get his license and training back in the real world and then join the flying team in Antarctica. Having been down here and seeing what all goes into living life at McMurdo, it's inspired a lot of people to pursue new avenues and bring a different set of skills to their next deployment.

For those staying, there's also a lot to consider. Some of my friends were staying on to do the same work they came down for. But others are taking this as an opportunity to try something new. I had some friends join up with the Waste team, Shuttles, and one friend I didn't realize was so exceptionally smart until he joined one of the science teams! Once the main body clears out, those staying will have the chance to move rooms as well, with many of them probably going into the 200 block rooms, which have smaller rooms and more opportunities to live by yourself. Probably not a place I would stay if I was working over the winter. Because then, outside of work, other people would definitely not see me.

I asked around to some of my friends, and finding out what people were most looking forward to was a lot of fun. Some really wanted a good cup of coffee. No shame to the stewies, but from what I hear, the same galley coffee day in and day out gets tiring. Even if it's just a Starbucks something, that change will be welcome. Some really wanted to pet an animal. We already talked how we aren't allowed to bother the penguins and seals, so for animal lovers, they've been a bit touch starved. I wish the best of luck to any family pets when they get home. Of course, food was a common answer. There are restaurants in Christchurch that people were making plans to go to, but also some were excited to get back, get their own ingredients, and make something that they love and couldn't get down here. Hand-rolled sushi was a common answer. For me, I'm most looking forward to real ice cream. The soft serve from Frosty Boy is fine—when the machine works that is—but some good chocolate nonsense will hit the spot.

My parents can attest that when things were coming to an end, I was feeling it. I compare it to being a college senior—that senioritis we've all felt. I've enjoyed my time on the Ice, but when you know an end is near, then you can't help but look forward to the change. It's an effort to not let it affect my work, but I also don't want to leave a bad impression if I ever want to come back. Thankfully, my sous chefs are pretty understanding of it, and things were pretty relaxed. No one had to clean the ceilings or behind the shelves in an effort to look busy. We would get most of our cooking prep done with plenty of time to spare, so if we had time, it was fine for us to mostly hang around and socialize. I think I talked more with my coworkers this last week than I had in the past few months working at Willy Field.

Endings are more like new beginnings, and for those staying and those leaving, McMurdo was going to be a different place in a few weeks. So while the air is filled with excitement, there's also a lot of reflection, remembering what the season was like, and seeing how we've all grown through it. While I'm looking forward to everything I'm going to do back home, looking back still has a bittersweet taste to it.

But I still want my ice cream.

Cage the Wild Animals

When I was in college, I spent all four years in the dorm. I figured I had all the rest of my life to live in apartments and that it would continue to be a unique experience for me. Well now I wish I could go back and tell 2014 Todd that it's not as unique as he might have thought. I've compared McMurdo to college life before, but when it comes to community living, that's where it really feels like dorm life all over again.

Since coming down here in August, I've been living in Building 155—Big Blue—in one of the dorm rooms. There are a number of dorm buildings on base, probably more than I know about considering I just learned about another one the other day. The dorms of 155 are set up to accommodate 4–5 people, while the others are for 2–3. My dorm has three single beds and a bunk bed, spread out in the four corners, each with their own standalone closet, with a fifth closet in the center of the room for the unlucky last man. Housing tries not to fill rooms with five, at least this year, and the only times they typically do is when someone will be here temporarily. This is usually people stopping over before heading to the South Pole, one of the research stations, or a visitor of one form or another.

Roommates really are the make or break when it comes to living in confined spaces. When I first arrived, I was the third man, and really didn't end up talking with my roommates too much. But I will always appreciate that one of them let me use his phone to text my mother that I'd arrived safely. That roommate situation lasted only a week or two as those of us who came in on the Winter Fly In had the option to move to one of the 2–3 person dorms. My two roommates did, but I decided to stay in 155 since that's also where the galley is, and I didn't feel like walking outside to work every day. So for over a month I actually had my room all to myself. It was a better time.

The downside to roommates is if there is a lack of respect for each other. When the summer season began, my room filled up with four of us total. One of my roommates worked in the galley with me and we actually got along quite well. The other was pretty quiet and we didn't talk much. But the third was where I started to feel the strain of community living. By this time I was on the midrats schedule, so I slept from 2 p.m. until 9:30 p.m. and then had my shift starting at 10:30 p.m. This roommate, however, liked to come back to the room from his shift with his girlfriend and sometimes another person and flip the lights and carry on like they were the only ones in the room. Every day for almost two weeks I was woken up like this. Thankfully, there are workarounds for these situations. Housing can be pretty accommodating if there are "personality difficulties" in a living situation. Luckily it didn't need to escalate as he and his girlfriend apparently were approved to move in the couple's dormitory. The guy we had move in later was similarly quiet as the rest of us, and the season went by with little issue there. In fact, I've said that all four of us could be in the room at once, behind our various privacy curtains, and none of us would know he wasn't the only one there.

While rooms might be where the tensions arise, other areas in the dorm are where competition begins. I could probably make a tier list of the best showers in the men's rooms, since I've had to use all of them at least once. Showers are one of those prime territories where their availability isn't always ideal to your schedule. The showers in the bathroom near my room are always the ones I go for: they're the tallest, have good water pressure, and don't change their heat based on other people's water usage. But that also makes them the most popular, and if you're not on a schedule that lets you take advantage of weird times, getting the good shower might be a rarity. Surprisingly, toilets aren't usually an issue. I've never been in dire need and not been able to easily access one.

Laundry, however, is another one where time needs to be on your side. If you're on Town Hours and your day off is on Sunday, the competition for a machine is fierce. And if you're not on top of your times, don't be surprised if you see someone's piled your clothes on the dryer and put their own in. Of course, there's not anything truly malicious. I haven't seen a frozen pair of pants outside from someone who didn't empty the washer or anything of the kind. But we're all working a lot, and having to carve out time for these means you have to keep a tight schedule. Just don't use too much of the detergent concentrate; management hate that.

As you can imagine, a bunch of people living together in close proximity tends to be a bit messy. Thankfully, we have an excellent janitorial team that handles most of the public spaces. But to keep from working the "Janos" to death, each of us will get assigned some chores from time to time. Known as House Mouse, for reasons I'm sure are very clever but have not been explained to me, this is a bi-weekly schedule that gets sent out letting us know who is cleaning what. It's on a rotating schedule, so everyone will likely have a few turns doing something over the season. Since I arrived, I've had three House Mouse tasks to attend to. These chores are typically something fairly easy, like cleaning the laundry room, shoveling and sweeping one of the entrances, or vacuuming a hallway. Ostensibly, this is to encourage us to have "ownership" of where we live, but I think it's mostly so the Janos don't feel like everyone's maid. Luckily, the House Mouse work is considered part of our contracted position, so typically you get an hour or two off of normal work on your House Mouse day to attend your chore. So if you get out of work early and finish your cleaning quickly, that's a little extra free time.

The mechanics of living together are always pretty straight forward. Respect is what carries you through the time, and if you're not giving it, you can't be surprised if you're not getting it from your roommates. But it all seems to work pretty well. I've written a few articles about all the parties, events, and gatherings that happen down here, and those wouldn't be possible if we were all at each other's throats. So while living tightly packed like this has its ups and downs, it keeps you from feeling totally cut off from the world at large and is part of what makes life at McMurdo unique.

But seriously, respect the Day Sleeper signs.

Invaders from the Sea

There are some things you might be surprised to see down here. While things like vans, trucks, and small moving equipment could probably have been transported on a cargo plane, how the heck did they get a bus, an oversized forklift, and a full on crane to Antarctica? The answer is The Vessel. McMurdo is located on a convenient natural port that's been used since the early days of exploration. So if we need something big, better be willing to wait that eighteen months before it can get down here on a cargo vessel.

While cargo planes can get us a good deal of our supply, there's only so much that they can bring at once. And as the fourteen-day delay to get me down here showed me, getting flights in is often an act of God. (For reference, at the time of writing, we've had maybe thirty flights come through this year; previous years at this time they've had over eighty.) So if we need reliable delivery, it goes on the vessel.

One of the reasons I know I could never run the food service department here (as if that was somehow an option) is that they have to plan and order eighteen months in advance. Many of the dry and shelf stable items are transported down on the cargo ship. You have to have a full picture of what you want meal service to look like for over a million meals and make preparations accordingly. I don't think I've got that kind of foresight.

(The icebreaker fittingly arrived during a storm)

The first sign of vessel season beginning is the arrival of the Icebreaker. The USCGC Polar Star is a heavy icebreaker that's been clearing the way for seafarers since 1973. Capable of breaking through ice up to 21 feet thick, the Polar Star is seemingly a pretty unique member of the US fleet. The only reason I know that is because there were rumors going around that we might not have vessel season at all. Apparently Polar Star's drive shaft broke on the way down and the only other icebreaker that could match its capabilities was in the north, months away. Somehow they managed to machine the replacement parts at McMurdo and get the Polar Star up and running again.

When the Polar Star finishes clearing the way, that opens up a channel for the cargo ship to come in, in this case, the Ocean Gladiator. When the vessel shows up, life at McMurdo takes a bit of a turn. For one, the population increases. With the coast guard and other sailors, we get around 150 to 200 additional people. While most seasons that's a respectable increase, this year that's actually a pretty big jump, since we've been a smaller crew. Mostly we feel that in the kitchen as more pounds of food being prepared. The state of the town changes as well. The vessel arrives during 24-hours of sunlight, and they make use of it. Unloading the cargo is a 24-hour cycle, with vehicles of all kinds going to and from the harbor. We have what could actually be called traffic in town for the first time.

(Over a year of supplies onboard. Icebreaker in the background)

There's also the social elements that change. For one, the store stops selling alcohol. Apparently the sailors aren't allowed to have it, and during years past, they'd buy up a bunch at station and things would get interesting at all hours. So to curb that, alcohol sales are totally stopped. But you can bet that there were people on station that were stocking up and "borrowing" other people's rations to keep them supplied during the dry spell. We were actually warned during an official meeting that the sailors would be willing to buy alcohol from us at a 300% markup, but that we'd be fired if we were caught. Not sure why they wanted to tell us how to set up a black market. We're also encouraged to keep our dorm doors locked, as things have "walked away" over the years and it's better to be safe.

This is not to throw shade at the sailors who arrived this year. From what I could see, they brought plenty of liveliness to the station and it seems like everyone had a good time for the week and a half that the vessel was here. After the cargo ship departed, we had one additional vessel arrive, the fuels vessel. Like everything, gas, diesel, and the works needs to be transported down here. I don't know the logistics, but something tells me putting a bunch of fifty-gallon drums on a cargo plane isn't a wise idea, so fuel gets its own special ship to take it in. The Acadia Trader was here for another four or five days, though the town was much less busy than the cargo delivery. I will say, I love that the Trader had "No Smoking" emblazoned in big red letters on the bridge. Probably a wise policy when you're sailing on a giant floating gas can.

(I bet the story behind that warning would make Michael Bay blush.)

Logistics makes the world go round, and it's the only thing that keeps Antarctica running. The need to keep it going is what sparks innovation. Our machine shop didn't come equipped to make a new drive shaft for the icebreaker, but they made it work. The human effort to keep everything running is amazing to see.

Now if they could just get more coffee mugs delivered for the store.