Around the Pole and other adventures
By Albie Pokrob
Editor’s note: Summer at the South Pole reaches its zenith during December, when the sun circles the horizon without ever dipping below it. In June and July, Antarctica is locked in its cold, dark winter. Albie Pokrob, a Connecticut native who’s thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail three times, climbed Denali twice and is a longtime member of ALDHA, has worked for several summer seasons at the South Pole with the National Science Foundation. During the Antarctic winter of 1995, he stayed over at the Pole with a few other select souls, including friends he worked with at the Mount Washington Weather Observatory in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The following account was written for the observatory’s March 1995 bulletin, “Windswept,” and is reprinted here with the author’s permission.
NTARCTICA is the highest, driest, and coldest continent on Earth. The average year-round temperature at the South Pole is minus 56.9 degrees Fahrenheit, but I believe the world’s worst recorded weather is on Mount Washington.
In eight seasons at the South Pole I have never experienced anything like the night of Dec. 4, 1980, on Mount Washington. I was working the night shift when winds began to howl.
Greg Gordon, Jeff Tirey, and Ken Rancourt were unable to sleep and joined me in the weather room. By midnight winds were consistently gusting over 150 mph, at which time Greg suggested we go out and experience their full force.
Ken politely declined the invitation, saying he preferred to vicariously experience this particular storm. Jeff
and I knew Greg was eccentric about weather extremes, but we were neophytes when it came to winds of this force so unwittingly followed him to the roof. After all, Al Oxton could not possibly deny us membership into the elite “Century Club” if we ventured out.
As Jeff prepared a rope line, I decided to take one step out the door. I’m not sure if it was the peak gust of 178 mph that I encountered, or one of the more common 150 mph gusts, but, whatever it was, it sent me flying. Fortunately I was able to grab onto a metal railing.
After a few brief moments of flapping like a flag, I grounded myself and humbly crawled back to the tower.
Winds at the South Pole are paltry in comparison — the average being 12 mph. However, coastal areas of Antarctica, such as Commonwealth Bay, have recorded 200 mph winds.
Although the winds are mild, temperatures at the Pole are extreme. The highest recorded being 7 degrees above zero and the low minus 117 Fahrenheit.
Only Vostok, the Russian Antarctic Station which is 2,155 feet higher than the Pole, has recorded lower temperatures; it holds the world record low of minus 128 Fahrenheit.Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station is named after Roald Amundsen of Norway and Robert Scott of England. Amundsen had planned his expedition to the North Pole, but turned his ship south at the last minute when word came that Cook and Peary had both laid claims to the North Pole. By using dogs, skis, and the Norwegian style of traveling light, he reached the South Pole on Dec. 12, 1911.
Scott tried to be the first to the Pole using tractors and ponies. The tractors broke and the ponies had trouble postholing, which left his men to manhaul sleds. They reached the Pole on Jan. 18, 1912, more than a month after Amundsen.
Scott was devastated to find the tent and note which the Norwegians had left behind, and entered in his journal, “Great God, what an awful place.” He and his men all died on the return trip, but their remains and journal were found the following year only 10 miles from a large depot which may have saved them.
Amundsen might repeat Scott’s words if he arrived at the South Pole today. We have almost all the modern conveniences of home: computers, VCRs, microwave ovens, and even a sauna. Radio-linked satellite phone calls are available several hours a week, and ham radio operators also help patch calls through to home.
During the summer months (October through February) there are up to 140 people on station with flights in and out almost daily. At this time of year (February), about all we have in common with Amundsen is that our only way out is on skis. On Feb. 11, 1995, the last plane of the season flew north. The 28 of us who remained behind stood on the flight deck and hugged our comrades goodbye. It was a poignant moment as the plane took off, dipped its wings, and then disappeared over the white horizon. The next plane will not return until late October.
The 28 people wintering include a station manager; five scientists studying upper atmospheric physics, astronomy, and gamma ray showers; two people working for National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration studying air quality; a Russian scientist studying upper atmospheric winds; two science technicians; two meteorologists; three cargo handlers; a doctor; a safety-environment-and-health coordinator; a powerplant mechanic; a heavy equipment mechanic; a utility mech-anic; three computer/communication technicians; a cook; an electrician; a plumber; and an equipment operator and waste management supervisor.I have worked in waste management and as an equipment operator for six seasons. When I first came here in 1987 most of our waste was buried in a snow pit. In 1990 members of the Antarctic Treaty agreed to stricter environmental regulations. Our dump was permanently closed in March 1991, and a waste management program established.
I had pushed for recycling since 1987 so inherited the task of getting things in order. This season (1995) we finally eliminated the backlog of waste — all 600,000 pounds! It was flown from the Pole to McMurdo (a U.S. base on the coast), and then shipped to Washington State where 75 percent is to be recycled.
Kacy Cuddy and Emily Buesser are two others on this year’s (1995) winter crew who have worked, like me, in the White Mountains. Emily is the cook and provides us with terrific meals. Kacy helps out in our small greenhouse, and she is responsible for delivering all station supplies, ranging from toothpicks to telescopes. She decided to winter after suffering heat exhaustion twice last summer. My theory is that she broke a temperature regulator during previous seasons at the Pole, and has decided minus 100 degrees is safer than 100 above.
When it does reach minus 100 we have our own version of Mount Washington’s “Century Club.” It involves temperature rather than wind and is called the “300 Club.” We crank the sauna to 200 degrees Fahrenheit, roast for a while, and then run around the world (the ceremonial South Pole) wearing only sneakers.
The other big events during the winter season are sunset, airdrop, sunrise, and station opening. A friend at Mount Washington used to claim that if you had seen one sunset, you had seen them all. Well, he might even poke his head out to see the sunset here. On March 22 it dips below the horizon and is gone for six months.
Airdrop occurs during the full moon in June. A Navy C-130 drops fresh food and mail attached to parachutes. In ’94, one of the chutes failed to open, resulting in a lost pallet of potatoes and onions, but the precious mail did arrive.
There is only one person I have ever known who was not ecstatic about mail at airdrop. That person received a divorce notice in one letter and an empty bank statement in another. Two years ago one winter-over began using e-mail to correspond with a woman whom he hadn’t seen since high school, 20 years ago. They became engaged before he left the ice so the divorce/marriage ratio seems to be even.
After the long Antarctic night we all anticipate Sept. 22. That is the day the sun pokes above the horizon and circles the Earth until reaching its high point (23 degrees) on Dec. 21.
Station opening is weather dependent, but usually happens late in October.
Our powerplant mechanic doesn’t think the generators will make it that long, so has been nicknamed “Doom.” The mechanic isn’t much more optimistic about the tractors, thus the nickname “Gloom.”
“Doom” and “Gloom” seem to enjoy their roles as much as we enjoy egging them on. Overall we have a very positive and congenial group with which to spend the next eight months.
Our weather may not be as exciting as Mount Washington, but there is not a better place on Earth to view the night sky.
We will have a 24-hour-a-day view of the stars and southern lights through the cleanest air on Earth.
Trailhead
New Boots •
Gathering •
Grapevine •
Springer Fever
A.T. Companion •
Headlamp Material •
Work Trips •
Side Trails