Monday, September 18, 2006

November 21, 1975: Friday

Cal woke me up this morning. Someone was talking to him outside. Cal yelled that it was raining. I decided to get up. It wasn’t. Cal said, “It only looked like it was raining.”

But it was foggy. I mean Foggy. Only the top of the big iceberg was visible. And then it wasn’t. The world drenched in milky, floating white. The world ending just beyond the rig.

Dr. Treves said at eight that the helo was flying, with Peter Barrett, Jack H., and Captain A.E. Van Reeth aboard. We gave them the ice deflections and Jerry’s bottom hole temperature (positive 0.44), a change of a degree and a half in 10 feet. That’s alarming. The Ops Plan says that the methane layer is near.

About nine o’clock Leon comes on and asks Henry and I to drive over to Marble Point and pick up four passengers and 400 pounds of cargo.

Why can’t they put those airports closer to town?

Henry is busy and Jerry goes with me. About a third of the way (but who knows), I remark to Jerry that there’s not much traffic on the Road to Marble Point. Except that we had some Kiwi’s stop by last night who were on a traverse to Vanda. So I decided to turn my lights on, in case they were coming back.

About that time Mac Center called to tell us that Gentle 11 was 10 feet off the deck, following the road from Marble Point to 1A.

So there we were, myself driving down a bulldozed snowy ice road through deep, thick fog, headlights flashing off the ground-banked cloud, and the chop-chop-chop of an unseen helo. And then, out of the fog, in the midst of the road, cab high, a whirling bird emerging from the void.

It was amazing.

They pulled over and landed. We loaded everything onto 590 and went home. Van Reeth sat in the back. He even helped shift the cargo. Captain Van Reeth is the Commander of the Naval Support Force Antarctica.

While I took him on a tour of 1A, Dr. Treves, Peter, and Jack talked things over.

At eleven o’clock Dr. Treves reviewed the facts.

Detection of methane. No methane coming up the hole. No ethane. No oxygen. High temperature gradient. Network of cracks around the rig.

Dr. Treves says one more sample will be taken and the rig shut down.

Captain Van Reeth is to take that message back to McMurdo and have the new NSF Rep call Washington and tell them (not ask them) of our decision.

On the radio to get Gentle 11 back, we can’t reveal what the decision is because the Times reporter hasn’t left. (He and Dave B. go on the Penguin Flight home). We want the official statement to come out before anything else does.

You see, our radio talks seem to have become an institution with all the folks with FM sets back home. Better than “Peyton Place” Mac Center told Kathy.

So I said to the Captain, “I understand you would like to drive the truck.”

And the Commanding Officer of McMurdo Station drove to Marble Point in a pick-up truck that drives backward. He was pretty good at it. Better than Dave Gross, who drove back. Dave got into a few snow banks and off-the-roaders. Van Reeth only missed a few major bumps.

The fog lifted as Marble Point came into view. For a few minutes I was lost because I had never been in the middle of the Bay before. But I guessed where things were, and was right.

The helo came into view just as we reached the fork in the road. It flew over us, and then came back. Van Reeth got out and thanked us.

I told him he was a real Antarctic veteran, now.

As Dave drove back into the fog we got a radio call. A couple of times on the way out Kathy came over the radio. But we couldn’t talk back to her, probably because of local traffic with a flight coming in.

So when things finally settled down long enough, she radioed and wanted to know what the situation was. I couldn’t tell her over the air. And if I didn’t tell her, I felt she would be disappointed or frustrated with being left out.

I told her, “Captain Van Reeth is returning to McMurdo with a very important message. Talk to Chris Whats-his-name, the new NSF Rep. Van Reeth is to contact him as soon as he gets back with an important message.”

She asked a question.

“I can’t answer that until Captain Van Reeth gets back.”

It’s sort of a little game, passing enough information without admitting anything. Government plays it a lot.

I hope she got the hint about what’s going on and understands that I couldn’t tell her.

By the time we got back the fog had lifted and Mount Bird was visible. At least the base was.

After all scientific endeavors were completed and the last core was brought up, sand was being forced up the hole. They decided to try another sample.

In this interval the Geologists scored the first two points ever scored against Max’s shift. They beat us 4-2. I scored one goal, a hard drive unassisted through Quigley’s legs.

Henry came out with a gimp leg, which is how I got in the game. I shouldn’t be playing, but once in the game it was all worthwhile.

Slipping and sliding over the ice, chasing a plastic plug puck with an axe handle is a lot of fun. The only rule is that you can’t hit the ref, Lloyd.

Blatant abuse of fundamental procedures is chastised. Max clobbered my left hand. I told him I’d send out a copy of the x-rays. The rest of the day I was pretty much one handed, especially when it came time to load the helo.

I tackled Dave Dickson as he was scooting for a power play. I needed that. It felt so good to hurl my body through the air and drag someone down from behind.

After the game it was time to work. No core in the last try. Sand still coming up the hole. Cal and I gathered things to be taken home and showed Jack how to run the transit.

Peter Bunch has been shipped to the South Pole.

The helo came. Dr. Nakai ran one more gas sample. No methane. No oxygen. Just nitrogen and carbon dioxide. We loaded up and left for McMurdo. No need for Cal and I to stay at 1A.

Back in town we went to eat. Late, of course.

Kathy understood. So did everyone else with a radio by the time we’d asked for lots of boxes and a scale to weigh up to 3000 pounds.

Kathy picked us up. She smiled a beautiful little grin, with a half wink in both eyes and a nice little wave with the gloves. I don’t know if it was meant for me or for the helo guy behind me.

I waved back, just in case.

After a shower and some fresh clothes I went up to the lab.

Rod was helping Kathy with wash samples. The lab was a mess, plastic bags, bottles, and tubes all over the place, dripping water and muddy fingers.

After Rod had gone and only Cal, Kathy, and I were left we celebrated Cal’s birthday (which was last Wednesday) with gin, vodka, and orange juice.

Some talk about geology, methane in the hole, and personnel problems confronting DVDP’s problem. We decided to walk down and get some ice cream.

Met Dr. Treves and Peter there, and the environmental monitors. Bob, a monitor, Bio-Mike, Kathy, and I will go out to do piston cores around 1A.

Kathy and I walked back to the Hotel. I wanted to talk to her, but my hand was really painful, except when I lose feeling in it once and awhile.

Didn’t sleep much. I kept putting pressure on the hand and the pain would wake me up.

Peter Barrett is my new roommate.

I was pretty affected by spirits. I could feel my voice like it was outside my body and my feet felt funny on the ground. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but no matter what I say, someone argues with me.

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