“The secret of politics? Make a good treaty with Russia.” ~~Otto Von Bismarck
Discovering that my heart was perfectly healthy was the best news I’d received all year other than when I was offered the Vehicle Operator position that would ultimately take me to Antarctica.
I felt as though I was on cloud nine. Getting the official “A-OK” from the doctor reinforced that I was 100% good to go to deploy to the ice. I had already been cleared medically by Raytheon but my visit to the Alaska Heart Institute had solidified the fact entirely in my own head. I was healthy from head to toe.
Knock on wood that is.
The only thing continuing to hold me back from getting to the ice was the National Science Foundation’s lack of an Ice Breaker. Without a ship to break up the ice in the channel to get supplies into McMurdo, they weren’t going to have an Antarctic season.
The first of August had come and gone. The middle of August had also come and gone and still no positive word. I had about two weeks left to my season and I was still without a job.
I remained determined to hold out until the very last minute to see if things would go through. There’s this thing called faith, and I was a firm believer in it.
I headed out to the field to guide a five day fully outfitted kayak trip on August 22nd in Aialik Bay. Aialik Bay is part of the Kenai Fjords National Park and it is one of the most amazing places I have been to so far in my life. I was hoping that by the time I returned I would have word if I was going to Antarctica or not.
As it turned out, my five days in the field turned into seven due to a variety of epic weather consisting of torrential rain, winds, and big seas. We had a chance to end the trip early and get picked up on day three instead of day five when the weather was supposed to be bad. Ending a trip early is always a hard decision. As the guide, you don’t want to ruin a client’s experience. If you end the trip early, they might hate you. If you stick it out and get stuck for an extra day or two…they still might hate you.
I monitored the weather on our marine radio, called in to discuss options with my boss Wendy on the satellite phone. I also touched base with Dawn, the Captain of our water taxi, the Weather or Knot.
Pretty much the decision was up to my clients. They had a few days of leeway so if we ended up getting stuck, they wouldn’t miss their flight out of Alaska. But if we stuck it out, would we even be able to paddle in Aialik? The seas around Cape Aialik were calling to be 14 foot swells with 35kt winds. In Aialik, it’s typically pretty calm, but we were sure to get some of what the Cape was getting.
I remember this day very vividly as it was one of the worst “rain” days I had ever spent in Alaska. Even after living in Juneau and spending time in Ketchikan, Alaska which is known to be “the rainiest city in North America.” So, this was saying a lot.
We had made a crossing from Abra Cove, which is on the east side of the bay to Inside Slate Island, which is on the West side of the bay. The rain had been coming down in sheets, hitting the water with such force that it was bouncing back up and forming air bubbles on the surface of the ocean. Our visibility was zero since everything was socked in by a thick wall of sea fog. There was no wind, just rain. We’d been on the water for about an hour and a half and we were already soaked thru to the bone. I knew our water taxi was in the bay. I couldn’t see them, but I had heard them.
I called up Dawn on channel sixteen and discussed our options. What information she had was what I already knew.
I turned to my clients and said, “Well, here are our options: We can get picked up today at 3:30 and end our trip early or we can get stuck out here for another day, possibly two. It’s calling for 14ft seas on Friday. There’s no way the water taxi is going to be able to make it out here in that. The two of you can discuss amongst yourselves if you would like to stay longer or leave early and just let me know and I’ll give Dawn a head’s up.”
We landed at Inside Slate Island and I stepped away from my clients to let them make their decision. I stood there in the rain, staring out to sea. Somewhere out there was a glacier, but the fog was so thick we couldn’t see anything. I listened to the rain plop against my hood and run down my face.
I raised my face to the sky, taking it all in.
Secretly, I loved days like this. Mother Nature was raging, but we were alive.
I was alive.
“We’ve decided to take a chance and stick it out. We can afford to get stuck out here for an extra day.”
I turned and looked at my clients. The three of us stood there on the beach looking like a trio of drowned rats just washed up in the tide. I grinned.
Hell yeah.
As it were, we got stuck out there not just one extra day, but two. We were supposed to be picked up on a Friday. We got picked up on a Sunday. Five days had turned into seven and it was one of the more memorable trips I’d ever had in Alaska.
Here are just a few photos of the weather we experienced out there.
I felt as though I was on cloud nine. Getting the official “A-OK” from the doctor reinforced that I was 100% good to go to deploy to the ice. I had already been cleared medically by Raytheon but my visit to the Alaska Heart Institute had solidified the fact entirely in my own head. I was healthy from head to toe.
Knock on wood that is.
The only thing continuing to hold me back from getting to the ice was the National Science Foundation’s lack of an Ice Breaker. Without a ship to break up the ice in the channel to get supplies into McMurdo, they weren’t going to have an Antarctic season.
The first of August had come and gone. The middle of August had also come and gone and still no positive word. I had about two weeks left to my season and I was still without a job.
I remained determined to hold out until the very last minute to see if things would go through. There’s this thing called faith, and I was a firm believer in it.
I headed out to the field to guide a five day fully outfitted kayak trip on August 22nd in Aialik Bay. Aialik Bay is part of the Kenai Fjords National Park and it is one of the most amazing places I have been to so far in my life. I was hoping that by the time I returned I would have word if I was going to Antarctica or not.
As it turned out, my five days in the field turned into seven due to a variety of epic weather consisting of torrential rain, winds, and big seas. We had a chance to end the trip early and get picked up on day three instead of day five when the weather was supposed to be bad. Ending a trip early is always a hard decision. As the guide, you don’t want to ruin a client’s experience. If you end the trip early, they might hate you. If you stick it out and get stuck for an extra day or two…they still might hate you.
I monitored the weather on our marine radio, called in to discuss options with my boss Wendy on the satellite phone. I also touched base with Dawn, the Captain of our water taxi, the Weather or Knot.
Pretty much the decision was up to my clients. They had a few days of leeway so if we ended up getting stuck, they wouldn’t miss their flight out of Alaska. But if we stuck it out, would we even be able to paddle in Aialik? The seas around Cape Aialik were calling to be 14 foot swells with 35kt winds. In Aialik, it’s typically pretty calm, but we were sure to get some of what the Cape was getting.
I remember this day very vividly as it was one of the worst “rain” days I had ever spent in Alaska. Even after living in Juneau and spending time in Ketchikan, Alaska which is known to be “the rainiest city in North America.” So, this was saying a lot.
We had made a crossing from Abra Cove, which is on the east side of the bay to Inside Slate Island, which is on the West side of the bay. The rain had been coming down in sheets, hitting the water with such force that it was bouncing back up and forming air bubbles on the surface of the ocean. Our visibility was zero since everything was socked in by a thick wall of sea fog. There was no wind, just rain. We’d been on the water for about an hour and a half and we were already soaked thru to the bone. I knew our water taxi was in the bay. I couldn’t see them, but I had heard them.
I called up Dawn on channel sixteen and discussed our options. What information she had was what I already knew.
I turned to my clients and said, “Well, here are our options: We can get picked up today at 3:30 and end our trip early or we can get stuck out here for another day, possibly two. It’s calling for 14ft seas on Friday. There’s no way the water taxi is going to be able to make it out here in that. The two of you can discuss amongst yourselves if you would like to stay longer or leave early and just let me know and I’ll give Dawn a head’s up.”
We landed at Inside Slate Island and I stepped away from my clients to let them make their decision. I stood there in the rain, staring out to sea. Somewhere out there was a glacier, but the fog was so thick we couldn’t see anything. I listened to the rain plop against my hood and run down my face.
I raised my face to the sky, taking it all in.
Secretly, I loved days like this. Mother Nature was raging, but we were alive.
I was alive.
“We’ve decided to take a chance and stick it out. We can afford to get stuck out here for an extra day.”
I turned and looked at my clients. The three of us stood there on the beach looking like a trio of drowned rats just washed up in the tide. I grinned.
Hell yeah.
As it were, we got stuck out there not just one extra day, but two. We were supposed to be picked up on a Friday. We got picked up on a Sunday. Five days had turned into seven and it was one of the more memorable trips I’d ever had in Alaska.
Here are just a few photos of the weather we experienced out there.
When you’re in the field guiding an extended trip, you often get the opportunity to get to know a bit more about your clients than you would, say, on a half day or a full day trip. In return, they too get to know a bit more about you. In this line of work, you often get people who are curious to find out how the heck you ended up in Alaska sitting there in a kayak like you were a part of the ocean.
So, you end up telling your life story in a way and the question that often follows is: What’s next?
This is a question I'm never good at answering since the answer is ever changing.
So, you end up telling your life story in a way and the question that often follows is: What’s next?
This is a question I'm never good at answering since the answer is ever changing.
So, that being said, my clients were aware that I was waiting in vain for a response from the higher ups in regards to the status of Antarctica. They were looking forward to a hot shower, good food, and a good beer when we got back to “civilization.” I was looking forward to an email telling me to pack my bags for the ice.
We stood in the office at the kayak shop saying our good-byes and exchanging emails so we could forward photos along to one another. They shook my hand and wished me good luck for Antarctica. Wendy, sitting there watching us, piped up. “You might want to check your email,” she said with a devilish glint to her eye as she looked at me. “I can’t say for sure, but there might be some news you might want to hear.”
With those words, I parted ways with my clients and ran to my room to power up my computer. What I found was the following:
NATIONAL SCIENCE FOUNDATION
4201 Wilson Boulevard ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA 22230
August 25, 2011
OFFICE OF POLAR PROGRAMS
Dear Colleagues:
On July 28, 2011, we informed you of the need to find and engage an icebreaker that would be capable of opening the channel to McMurdo Station this coming austral summer season. At that time, we advised you that if such a vessel was not identified by mid-August, the U.S. Antarctic Program would need to implement contingency plans by mid-August.
Since our last communication, we have continued working with colleagues in the State Department, the Office of Science & Technology Policy and the Office of Management and Budget, the Coast Guard and other agencies, as well as with shipping companies world-wide with icebreaking resources suitable for breaking the channel to McMurdo Station and escorting the tanker and cargo ships.
I am pleased to report that we have entered into a letter contract for the services of the Vladimir Ignatyuk, a diesel powered Russian icebreaker owned by the Murmansk Shipping Company. Some of you will recognize this ship as sister to Canada's Terry Fox.
This year's experience brought home the importance of increasing our contingency fuel supply at McMurdo over the next several years, partly via increased shipment and partly by reducing fuel usage. While these actions could result in delays to operational or science projects in the near term, we will make every effort to minimize disruptions.
OFFICE OF POLAR PROGRAMS
Dear Colleagues:
On July 28, 2011, we informed you of the need to find and engage an icebreaker that would be capable of opening the channel to McMurdo Station this coming austral summer season. At that time, we advised you that if such a vessel was not identified by mid-August, the U.S. Antarctic Program would need to implement contingency plans by mid-August.
Since our last communication, we have continued working with colleagues in the State Department, the Office of Science & Technology Policy and the Office of Management and Budget, the Coast Guard and other agencies, as well as with shipping companies world-wide with icebreaking resources suitable for breaking the channel to McMurdo Station and escorting the tanker and cargo ships.
I am pleased to report that we have entered into a letter contract for the services of the Vladimir Ignatyuk, a diesel powered Russian icebreaker owned by the Murmansk Shipping Company. Some of you will recognize this ship as sister to Canada's Terry Fox.
This year's experience brought home the importance of increasing our contingency fuel supply at McMurdo over the next several years, partly via increased shipment and partly by reducing fuel usage. While these actions could result in delays to operational or science projects in the near term, we will make every effort to minimize disruptions.
Your best source of information will be your NSF program manager but we will also distribute updated information when available via the USAP.GOV website.
Sincerely,
Karl A. Erb Director
The Russian Icebreaker: Vladimir Ignatyuk
No comments:
Post a Comment