Geography Reference
In-Depth Information
16
in full survival gear, including parka, windpants and liner, “bear-paw” mittens,
and the white, rubber footwear that everyone calls “Bunny boots,” because they
resemble Bugs Bunny's feet.
The crew chief, a fifty-something sergeant with a potbelly and a one-piece
jumpsuit zipped open way too far, briefed us on safety procedures. As the plane's
engines began to whine, I twisted in my earplugs, retreating to a private world
of adrenaline. I couldn't believe my good fortune in having been selected to go
to Antarctica, yet here I was buckled into a plane about to take off across the
Southern Ocean and to land somewhere on the other side at an outpost at the
end of the Earth.
At the back of the Starlifter was a narrow floor space between the cargo
ramp and the end of the last pallet where passengers could stand and stretch
cramped muscles. A pair of cargo doors flanked this space, each with a single,
circular window about a foot and a half in diameter, which offered those of us
not on the flight deck our only glimpse of the exterior. Several hours into the
flight I went back to look out the windows. The ocean was dark blue spotted with
white blocks of ice that soon coalesced into a solid sheet of white. I stood rapt at
the window as land appeared, several low ridges rising above the sea of ice. Ross
had sailed along this coastline in 1841 late in the season with all of the sea ice
broken out.
The flight path from Christchurch to McMurdo crosses northern Victoria
Land approximately along the 167° E meridian. Since no one else seemed particu-
larly interested, I jumped back and forth between windows, scanning the vast
network of ridges in the central part of the region. Out the right side of the plane
I could see the backsides of the Admiralty and Victory Mountains that had stood
as a high, peaked wall to Ross. At about Lady Newnes Bay, the Starlifter reached
the coastline with its towering peaks, steep glaciers and ice tongues protruding
out into the Ross Sea. I stayed glued to the window on the right side of the plane.
Mount Melbourne came into sight, then the spectacular Drygalski Ice Tongue,
not discovered until 1902 by Scott. And then we were told to take our seats in
preparation for landing.
The plane landed smoothly by Antarctic standards, and soon I was stepping
down onto the ice of Antarctica. My first impression was of brilliant, white light.
After riding in the dimly lit cargo compartment for so many hours, I emerged
into a day of hazy white sky and intense sunlight. I remember not being able
to see anything beyond the various buildings, planes, and tracked vehicles that
populated the Ice Runway a couple miles out from McMurdo. My senses were
bombarded by engine sounds from all directions, and the acrid, oily smell of jet
fuel. This wasn't the Antarctica I had anticipated, but rude civilization. This noisy,
smelly outpost was simply the gateway to a wilderness that would be beyond my
wildest dreams.
