At breakfast this morning I heard someone say, "this is NOT a flight I'm going to miss" about their flight off the ice tomorrow. We have stopped flying to the South Pole now and have daily trips back to Christchurch (which is where we stage for the operation down here). I leave this Friday; there's one more flight on Saturday and that's it for a few weeks. There's one more scheduled flight in early March for last minute supplies and people, but after that, nothing more scheduled until an August resupply flight. Most of the winter-over crew will be here at least until October.

The American Tern

The American Tern is our annual supply vessel at McMurdo. She pulled in on Monday morning and started off-loading by early afternoon. Empty by Wednesday, they loaded her back up and finished at 4:24pm today. Why do I know the exact time? Because the captain, pictured below, invited Fr John and I to join him for dinner and a tour before they pull out tomorrow morning. Here I am with him on the bridge, sporting the cap he gave me.



One of the reasons the vessel departure is such a big deal on station is that during the complicated and very busy dance to offload and back-load the vessel, McMurdo is dry. No alcohol sales in the store or the bars. Because the vessel is pulling out of port tomorrow, the station manager this afternoon decided to let the store sell beer and wine tonight. And so for the single hour it was opened, the store looked like this:


The First Sergeant and I are wondering what this will do to church attendance tomorrow morning...

Point of View

Much in our life changes meaning or takes on new meaning if we adjust our point of view. One of the goals of my spiritual life is to adjust my view in order to accomodate not only my own life and desires, but those of my neighbor and my God. As a chaplain or pastor, I'm often seeking ways to illustrate this shift in perspective; yesterday I met a comrade whose art seeks to do the same thing.

The National Science Foundation offers grants to scientists to come down here for research. Additionally, NSF sponsors an Antarctic Artists and Writers Program in which artists working in different mediums get a trip here for their own research. There are at least two sets on station now: a married couple developing a marionette musical about Sir Ernest Shackleton, an early Antarctic explorer and Elise Engler, a visual artist. (For more about Elise, click here and for specifics about her Antarctica work and journey, check out this blog.)

Elise's work is pretty fascinating, though I didn't quite get it at first. I went to a public lecture she gave last week and became intrigued. She created a series of colored pencil sketches of everything she owned and presented it as a "self-portrait" (isn't it intriguiing that in our society we put so much value in what we own?). A variation on that theme is a series of sketches of women's handbags, here's #28 in that series, linked from her website:

Her works about how our government spends money are quite thought-provoking (the contents of a tool shed in a public park, the equipment to fire weapons on a single sortie in Iraq). Watching the Rockettes in NYC during the war in Iraq produced a startling contrast she calls Life Goes On:


One of her projects that she's done over time is a collection of views outside of windows. (Talk about changing perspective: Should I sit comfortably at a window or step outdoors to see the world for myself?) Elise stopped in the chapel yesterday and looked out our windows and decided that her next sketch of McMurdo's windows would be from here. We have a few different windows that offer distinct views. The large window behind the altar has stained glass and a beautiful view of the mountain range across the Ross Sea. On a clear day lately, we can see whales, seals and skua off in the distance. My camera isn't that great, but this gives you an idea of it:

Other windows look out across waste pipes to the ice dock where the cranes on top of the cargo vessel are constantly moving. It's quite a different view.

Some views out of the chapel are of the glorious majesty of creation... other views are of the mundane work-a-day world. The chapel looks out on both. It's easier for me to we consider a God of majesty and power (and maybe judgement and anger). That's the Big Stained Glass Window version of God. It's more difficult for me sometimes to remember God in the mundane.

When Elise entered yesterday looking for a window, I noted the obvious: Sketching the big stained glass window, everyone will know it's from the chapel. I'm thrilled, however, that she chose to sketch the view of the mundane work-a-day window. A challenge of spirituality in our world is seeing God in the mundane, and I'm thrilled that her art will present this view from within this holy place.

Groundhog's Day

There's a running joke down here about Groundhog's Day. Before I came down I asked folk what it was like and several people said "Remember the Bill Murray movie when he wakes up and each day is exactly the same as the day before? Well, it's like that." Most folk work six days a week for 10-12 hours a shift so each day looks a lot like yesterday and tomorrow doesn't promise to bring much change.

So it's REALLY Groundhog's Day here and I've discovered it's really not too different from yesterday. Or tomorrow.

And so I made a joke at lunch today about it being Groundhog's Day and wasn't that cool because it was different than yesterday. The joke didn't really work, though. It was pretty lame, but the mechanics I sat with were patient with me and pretended to laugh.

Company Town

Some of you have asked questions about what it's like to live here. There's different aspects of life here: the science mission, the military flying, the amazing scenery and natural beauty of Antarctica. But there's also the day-to-day operations of McMurdo that can best be described as a Company Town.

The National Science Foundation oversees McMurdo (as well as two other US stations in Antarctica), but contracts with other companies or organizations to handle many of the daily operations: for example, the Air Force and a couple other operations provide airlift. Raytheon currently has the primary contract for support; these contracts run for about a decade and the current one is up for renewal in the next year.

Raytheon and other subcontractors hire people to fill in the support jobs: the heavy equipment operators to keep the runways clear and flat, cooks, the barber, computer geeks, custodians, waste managment and more. Some of these folk found the job listings on Criagslist, some by word of mouth (the barber answered an online ad to cut hair down here!). People settle on a salary before they arrive and once here, there is not much money that exchanges hands. The pay here isn't as good as most people make back in the states, but all expenses are covered and it's a pretty amazing place to work, so it's usually a wash in the end. (Also, pipefitters and carpenters and a lot of other folk can't find work back home so they need the job.)

You sign up for a haircut and don't pay anything. There's no gym fee, no library card, meals are all covered and the medical clinic staffs a couple docs, a dentist and even a physical therapist to watch over us. If your vehicle needs a part, you pull it off the shelf at supply or file a request to have someone make it for you. Most of our clothing is issued to us, so often you can tell if people are laborers, scientists, military or civilian based on our outer clothing layer. We have nametags that velcro on and off our jackets. There are town meetings for new safety procedures. There are maybe a dozen bikes that are parked all around town for people to borrow and use when needed.

It's a unique environment, at least for me, and really adds to the sense of us being on an outpost at the edge of the world. For the most part, there's a real sense of group identity and participation in the effort to survive and study here.

Jumping Jacks

Church went a little slow this weekend. The crowd that gathered seemed tired and not too interactive. That's not really my style, so for the second time in my career - though I've threatened it countless times - I had the congregation stand up and do jumping jacks.

By mid-afternoon I was hearing from people on station how they were sorry they missed church. "The chaplain made us to jumping jacks!"

I hope someone remembered something else about worship.

Meet Sue Sue the Seal

Here's BP and Sue Sue the Seal (a new addition and birthday gift) at the South Pole a few weeks ago.