Over the Southern Ocean

About six weeks ago, I flew out from McMurdo in a New Zealand Air Force passenger plane.  In a town full of military equipment, unique custom vehicles, and exotic polar retrofits, the passenger plane seemed quite pedestrian.  The plane was only distinguishable from a commercial airliner by the exterior paint job (matte gray) and the outfits of the flight attendants (drab olive flight jumpers).

The front seats of the plane were unfilled, and after we took off, I moved to the forward bulkhead of the plane.  I chatted with a couple Kiwi crew members then stretched out my legs and stared out the window.  A dense cloud layer covered the continent for much of our flight.  Occasional spectacular breaks in the clouds revealed the exposed rock ridges and snow-laden mountain faces of the Transantarctic Range.  The cloud cover disappeared as we left the influence of the Antarctic landmass, and the Southern Ocean was revealed.  The dark blue sea surface was mottled with floes of sea ice.  These tiny floating specs offered insights into activity down on the sea surface.  In some regions, wind and water currents had densely packed the ice into a textured white surface.  Elsewhere, the fields of floating ice were smeared and stretched into beautiful strands and curls.  A narrow band of floes seemed to highlight the seam at a region of water convergence.  Strange currents around a large, sculpted iceberg created a halo of sea ice.

Kelly met me in Christchurch, New Zealand and some great adventures ensued.  The tiny red Toyota hatchback we'd rented was our fuel-sipping motorcycle, rugged 4WD machine and deluxe motorhome.  We spent five days camping out of a sea kayak, and explored the bright gravel beaches, fur seal colonies, and playfully eroded granite headlands of the coast.  On cloud-whipped hikes, we crossed the tussock fields of the high country, bush-whacked through knee-deep moss beds, and looked down into spectacular glacial cirques and milky lakes.  Those stories can be told another time.

Thanks to everyone who followed along on our modern Antarctic expedition!  In the next six months, I'll travel to study some of the most powerful weather systems on the planet--springtime Great Plains thunderstorms from Salina, Kansas and torrential late summer rains from U-Tapao, Thailand.  Stay tuned!