From adamg Wed Jun 17 21:45:58 1992 Return-Path: Date: Mon, 8 Jun 92 10:48:32 -0400 From: adamg (Adam M Gaffin) To: staff Subject: antarctica 2 DATE: 25/05/92 TIME: 2230 LAT: 59.69 S LONG: 49.77 W TEMP: -17 C. Have experienced things I have never even thought about. First, sailed through entire Straits of Magellan on the morning of 5/21; then entered the wildest ocean in the world, the Drakes Passage, between tip of South America - Tierra del Fuego - and Antarctic Peninsula. Winds of approximately 40 knots, 18-to-20 foot waves. It was not a pleasant experience! I'd guess 95 percent of those on board stayed horizontal except when the previous week's dinners were ``coming to the surface.'' I was fortunate until late in the day when I had to go to the bridge to begin my ice observations. I lasted about 20 minutes before I had to make a decision of whether to go down five decks or spread breakfast all over the bridge. I opted for the former. Please note, all this sea sickness took place even though virtually everyone on board was sporting an anti-nausea patch. I asked Capt. Russell his cure for sea sickness. He said he had learned it from his ``daddy'' (Capt. Russell is a rather large Cajun gentleman with a wonderful sense of humor) on his first time out at sea. ``Daddy'' gave him a coffee cup into which he was to place the previous meal. Once captive in the cup, said contents were to be immediately drunk. I don't think the captain has been seasick since! Worked on iceberg watch from 4 to 8 a.m. Spotted South Orkney Islands on radar. Worked with (team leader) Vicky ( Lytle) deploying acoustical sounder. Spent a good chunk of time photographing icebergs. They are beautiful; at one time, as many as 70 on the (radar) screen and 35 within view! They are huge: 250 feet tall.; please note that the other 8/9 of iceberg is below the water line and anywhere from a block to 2.5 miles long and wide. Colors are spectacular; dozen shades of white, but it is blue-greens that make you appreciate the beauty displayed before you. Many icebergs are also worn down in designs that make them appear as sculptures. At 7 p.m., lights from the Russian icebreaker Akademik Federov could be seen on the horizon. We were finally going to rendezvous with our Russian counterparts! As a team, with the much larger (450 feet long) Federov leading, we would move into the Weddell Sea and recover the ice camp. By 7:30, the Federov could be seen off in the distance. With the aid of three hugh search lights, the Federov was located parked deep in the ice (floe thickness about five feet). At 7:45, I made a dash for my cabin, where I put on as much gear as possible. With camera in hand, I ran to the bow of the Palmer. There must have been 15 of us, on the bow most with cameras, waiting to be part of this historic rendezvous. The Federov was stopped dead in the water, her engine idle as we approached from the north. The sky was crystal clear and filled with constellations totally foreign to this novice Antarctic explorer from another hemisphere! There was little or no wind and the temperature was about -30 F. The Federov, with her orange paint (same as the Palmer) and sodium vapor lights giving her an amber glow as the white plumes of steam billowed straight up in the still night's cold, presented a magnificent sight while the ship lay locked in at least seven feet of ice. Capt. Russell brought the Palmer in bow first on the starboard side of the Federov. He put her within four feet of the other ship; we broke out in cheers and gave the captain a ``15 thumbs up.'' We waved to our Russian counterparts as we all stood in the cold. As frequently occurs, the plans were changed and the Palmer had to back up and approach from the starboard side. This time, we cushioned the two ships with two large ice floes, each some eight feet thick. Finally, after another 45 minutes, the Federov hoisted, in a basket, 10 members of its staff (including the captain, the ice pilot and chief scientist) and deposited them on the deck of the Palmer to a large round of applause - not a person had left for we all realized the significance of this happening! The Russians proceeded to the conference room, where they, in conjunction with their American counterparts, would determine the final plans for the recovery of the ice camp. The scene and happening was probably one of the most exiting moments of my life. Two ships totally alone in the middle of nowhere. WOW! We then cleared the deck. I joined many of the other researchers in the computer room; in fact, I was waiting for computer time to write this letter. to share with you the immediate excitement of this historic meeting deep in the Antarctic ice. This is going to sound like a lot of BS, but it is all true. Around 11:50 p.m., the unthinkable happened: the fire alarm went off. As procedure has it, you are to go your to your cabin, get your life preserver and your survival (Gumby) suit and meet at a designated point for a roll call. As we exited the computer lab thinking it was a drill, the horror struck home! The hall leading to the upper decks was filling rapidly with smoke and the ship's crew was gathering from around the ship with their firefighting equipment. The call went out: ``FIRE IN THE HOLE, FIRE IN THE BOW THRUSTER.'' Tension was high; but, we all rapidly filed to the meeting point. We were then told that there was a fire and that a decision would be made if we were to put on our survival suits and abandon ship. Roll call revealed one science-team member was missing, so searchers were sent to locate him. He was found, after about 10 minutes (which seemed like an eternity). We were then moved to another room closer to the lifeboats, where we were told that the bow thruster had burned up, that there was no visible fire at this time, that the bottom four decks were filled with smoke and that a decision was being made whether to abandon ship. The thought of going overboard in the lifeboat in the dead of night at -31 degrees in the middle of the Weddell Sea was, I think, one of the most frightening feelings I have ever experienced. Thank God, the Federov was along side! I felt confident that we would not die; but we were very anxious. Thoughts of family filled my mind; thoughts of how we'd get home; thoughts of the personnel at Ice Camp Weddell who are depending on us to recover them; thoughts of the research projects that these men and women scientists had in many instances spent much of their professional careers working on. After about 10 more minutes, word came from the bridge that the ship was secure; the bottom was being ventilated and we should stay in the conference room until the smoke was cleared. To make time pass more quickly, the ASA rep, Kevin, got a video we might watch. We had the choice of ``Twins'' or ``Backdraft.'' We unanimously chose ``Backdraft.'' As we joked and watched the movie, it was obvious we were SAFE. By the time the movie was over (2:10 a.m.), the ALL CLEAR was sounded.