Letters from the Ice: August

The End Draws Near-WINFLY (8/25/22)

Greetings All,

The approach of Spring and Winter Fly-In in the deep south is an interesting experience. The light returns yet the cold is even more bitter. August has the recorded coldest temperatures for McMurdo Station and as I write this the outside temperature is hovering at -29F, -61F with windchill. My room is located has a window and of the months I have been down here, I can definitively back up the August temperature claim. I am looking forward to the end as there are now less than 50 days left for my departure in October. The light has returned and with it the dull sensations of being able to truly see people and things with clarity. The people that have showed up have livened things up while at the same time bringing a unique aura of coarseness.

When you come out of the darkness, a level of self-reflection can be achieved unlike any other. Through this time of light and life, the presence of the past weighs even more heavily on the mind. Smells begin to become more vivid and an eager anxiety awaits the rays of sunlight that will soon begin to crest over the heights surrounding our valley. It is hard to describe the elation of hope and relief of mind that such a time is. The Nature of Change is Permanent. One such change was that of the help that did arrive. The extra Operator was flown in and helped out for a couple days until his background check finally cleared with Human Resources and a criminal record that was not fit to participate in our Program was revealed. The recent flight was the first time they started to clear people through a fingerprinting program and I am sure his misplacement was part of that shuffle. He is now scheduled back out on Tomorrow’s flight.

Comradery. Reading many accounts of early polar exploration has led me to believe that this specific ingredient is missing here on ice. While our lives are on the line to a degree, the actual likelihood of our risk is almost lower when statistically looking through the lens of an Average American who must drive to work. Driving alone increases the risk of harm seriously in addition to the variety of other risky inputs found back stateside. The presence of death definitely brings that proximity and here it does not feel like a perpetual overhang over our heads like it may have been in the past. This little rock called Ross Island is almost tame compared to the rest of the continent. Through working down here and supporting this base which aims to conduct “scientific research”, I can point to this form of brotherhood that appears fragmented.

Is it the money or the darkness which separates people? Or perhaps an anxiety about showing up authentically. Despite the absence of cell service and an environment that should bring people together rather than separate them, working here has really illustrated how currently disconnected the state of “The States” is as a whole. People bring themselves to this place along with their flaws both real and imagined. I am by no means perfect and like a sheet of ice this experience has definitely reflected my own flaws. However, this white canvas space called Antarctica is like a blank sheet allowing for an expression of individuality uniquely paradoxical. It is place where it seems as if one is both blessed and cursed at the same time for the gift of presence on its ice laden mass.

Thank you for your prayers and thoughts.

Blessings,