Diary from Antarctica by Peter Hackworth

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Diary from Antarctica by Peter Hackworth

by Rebecca Starford , January 12, 2010 • 1 Comment

In 2009, Peter Hackworth was the Station Leader at Mawson Station in Antarctica. From March to November each year, the station is completely isolated from the outside world. It is subject to extreme cold, high winds, frequent blizzards and, for several months, minimal sunlight. Peter led a team of scientists, technicians and trades people working on a variety of research, construction and maintenance projects. Here is the first of three edited extracts of his diary entries that we will be publishing on the Kill Your Darlings blog over the next week. It records Peter Hackworth’s thirteen-day field trip with six of his colleagues. They were attempting to reach the Kloa Peninsula, 400 kilometres west of Mawson Base.

Antarctica map

Day One Monday 14 September

Light snow meant reduced visibility and a delayed departure from Mawson. The track to Colbeck had heavy snow cover from the two recent blizzards. No sun meant it was impossible to distinguish bumps and dips. Before we realised it, we were on a patch of sastrugi (large chunks of ice forced vertical by tidal pressure). Seuss (the team doctor) walked ahead and found a route through the worst of it.

The weather gradually improved as we travelled west. A wall of icebergs off Byrd Head made finding a path through to Colbeck a challenge.

We arrived at the hut at 1700. Weather was good, ‐7.3°C and the wind only 25–35kph. The hut door, though, was blizzed-in, and it took twenty minutes to dig out. The carbon dioxide alarm kept tripping, but we managed it if we didn’t run the gas heater and stove at the same time. I found the fuel cache; luckily it had been marked with a bamboo pole as the drums were completely invisible under the snow.

Day Two Tuesday 15 September

Made the weather sked at 0800 with Tubby (acting Station Leader in my absence). There was a high probability of a blizz-in in two days but we estimated we’d be at Ledingham’s Depot by then. Left Colbeck at 0930, and headed around Taylor Glacier to Cape Bruce. Mawson landed there in 1931 and it was one of several places where he proclaimed Antarctica for Britain – later ceded to Australia.

However, three hundred metres from Cape Bruce Lee (the electrician) spotted a tide crack. On the surface, it was only three centimetres wide, but when we probed it with ice axes, it was at least a metre, bridged with snow. We decided it wasn’t essential to get to Cape Bruce – we’d leave it for our return.

We’d been continuing west for fifteen minutes when the left-hand side of the lead Hagg (our vehicle) lurched up and it was in a tide crack; probably the same one turned seawards. We hadn’t seen it under its cover of snow.

It didn’t look too bad, at first, and everyone was grinning – Seuss especially –at the anticipation of being added to the ‘wall of shame’ in the Mawson bar. (This is a collection of photographs of vehicles bogged or stuck in crevasses.) Eight hours later, the mood was a bit different: despite numerous attempts winching forward, backwards and on an angle, we couldn’t free the Hagg. At 1900, we decided with great reluctance to leave the Hagg and go back to Colbeck. Aaron (the mechanic) refuelled it and left the motor and bilge pumps running. There was no risk of it sinking, the crack was too narrow for that.

Antarctica image 2

Day Three: Wednesday 16 September

I slept badly, worrying about the Hagg. Aaron also had a long night – as the expedition dieso, he felt extra responsibility for the vehicles.

At the 0800 sked, we spoke to Jeremy (senior dieso at Mawson). He advised us to pull the vehicle upright by winching from a point perpendicular to the vehicle. We’d discussed this idea the day before, but Aaron was worried that it would cause structural damage to the fibreglass body.

We left at 0900. Our confidence was boosted when we found the Hagg still running and still pumping water – after fourteen hours! Seuss, Bucky (from the meteorological bureau) and I finally found a place to get the green Hagg across the tide crack, and we bridged it with ladders as an additional precaution. Using the electric winch the front cab popped up easily, and while it was upright we hand-winched it sideways onto adjacent ice cleared of snow. The rear cab was righted, ladders pushed under the tracks, and the Hagg finally winched forwards onto safe ice. The field party was considerably happier that night; we shared a bottle of port in celebration!

Day Four: Thursday 17 September

0900 weather sked confirmed approaching blizzard, though we figured we’d be at Ledingham’s Depot by nightfall.

We kept well seaward as we passed Cape Bruce. At 1600, a bit less than four kilometres west of Tilley, the yellow Hagg bogged heavily. Aaron started bringing the green Hagg around but it also bogged badly with the heavy sled sunk a metre into the slush. I think we all felt pretty miserable at the thought of having to face the ‐15°C and 50kph winds as we dug out two 4.5 tonne vehicles. At least we could see Tilley clearly. I decided that once we got the Haggs free we’d camp there.

With both vehicles stuck the electric winch wasn’t an option, so we set up to hand winch the yellow Hagg first. (This involves drilling one metre holes, sledge‐hammering in six anchor posts, attaching chains, shackles, winch blocks and up to three winches. All the recovery gear is kept on the roof, and it’s a bit of a challenge putting everything together with heavy gloves while being blasted with snow.)

It took about an hour to free the yellow Hagg and get it onto good ice. It was much easier to free the green Hagg. I called for a break to get the group inside the warm vehicles, and eating and drinking before we do anything else. The remaining work went smoothly; it was the relief of having both vehicles free gave us a big lift. It was now 8pm and getting pretty dark, but we could still make out Tilley and I had a GPS waypoint of a known campsite.

Seuss and Aaron walked ahead of the vehicles probing a route with ice axes. The winds were by now 60–75kph but the ice was improving and after about thirty minutes everyone was back on board.

4 Bedding is a closed‐cell foam mat, self‐inflating foam‐air mat, two sheep skins, two down sleeping bags and two inner sheets; one of polar fleece and one silk. Once you are in you ain’t going anywhere, but you are very warm.

Antarctica image 3 We arrived at Tilley Nunatak. Seuss found a site protected by the wind. Everyone was tired, though in buoyant moods. It took a while to get the three polar pyramid tents up in the wind. I didn’t feel hungry; I just ate a bit of chocolate. Day four had been fairly eventful and it looked like we’d be there for the next couple while the blizz passed. We’d only travelled one hundred and thirty kilometres from Mawson, Kloa was still two hundred and seventy kilometres away.