Adams eyes Antarctica’s extended fall

As the Antarctic summer season wraps up, we’re starting to slow down. The fatigue has settled in; the wear and tear of four months of intense work in this harsh climate has taken a toll. My fingers are cracking from working in the dry cold, and I’m holding the splits together with Super Glue. They will heal after I leave the South Pole.

Not everyone is getting ready to leave, though. For the “winter-overs,” things are really just starting. When the last flight leaves for the summer, these people (about 60, a quarter of our summer population) had better be well dug in for a long winter. There will be no planes in or out of the South Pole Station for eight months – the air guard will not fly with temperatures lower than minus 50. Their only contact with the outside world will be sporadic Internet access. They will not see fresh eggs, milk or fresh fruit for the duration.

For at least six of those eight months there won’t be sunlight either. The winter-overs are the only people who see the other side of Antarctica: the long Antarctic night when during the height of winter, temperatures can drop lower than 100 degrees below zero.

Wintering over is a rite of initiation for some, a period of introspection for others. It’s not all hardship. Winter-overs witness the monthlong sunset, the monthlong sunrise and the auroras, midwinter’s incredible light show.

Many of my friends at South Pole Station are wintering over; as I pack my bags they’re just settling in. Many are excited, while some are nervous. People make jokes about who will be the first to “crack,” but this is semiserious. One qualification to wintering over, at any United States Antarctic base is passing a psychological exam.

Though the pace in winter is far slower than the summer season, the winter-overs are planning to stay as busy as possible. Darkroom equipment is hauled into the station. DVDs are lined up.

Suzy, a friend who spent the 2006 winter here, talks about how wintering over changed her life. “The South Pole is a completely different place in the winter. You step out of the door of the main station, the door clicks shut behind you, and it’s silent. None of the frenetic activity of the summer season. Moonlight illuminates the snow, and everything is still. You really feel like you’re at the bottom of the world then. It’s something that you will always have, that feeling, something that no one can take from you.”

Groups of 10 to 60 Americans have been wintering at the South Pole since 1952. Many people are repeat winter-overs, coming back to the pole just to work these dark months. Only 152 women have wintered at the South Pole to date.

We summer people got a small taste of what the winter might be like during a solar eclipse Feb. 7. The eclipse covered up 82 percent of the sun over the course of several hours and blocked enough of the sunlight to cause the temperature to drop temporarily to minus 54. I stood outside wearing a welding mask to watch it. During the peak period, the entire station slowed down.

“Would you winter?” is a question everyone asks.

“Are you crazy?” is a common answer.

As for myself, I reply “not this year.” The otherworldly magic of the little-known side of Antarctica – the moonlit frontier that is midwinter – has an allure. But an Antarctic winter is nothing to rush into, physically or mentally. I’d rather let my cracked fingers heal.

But there has been a small change of plans. I’m not leaving Antarctica yet.

On the coast, it’s warmer and McMurdo station and a few outposts remain accessible for a couple of months longer. This “extended season” – the Antarctic fall – runs until late April, spanning the month of sunset and finishing up just as twilight has run its course.

As it turns out, I’ve just accepted a job at Marble Point, a remote field camp on the Antarctic coast, as the new cook and assistant camp supervisor.

As the South Pole heads into its winter season, I’m going to be having an Antarctic fall. Here’s to a new waypoint: Marble Point Air Facility, 50 miles from McMurdo base.

Meg Adams, who grew up in Holden and graduated from John Bapst Memorial High School in Bangor, shares her Antarctic experiences with readers each Friday. For more about her adventure, information about Antarctica and to e-mail questions to her, go to the BDN Web site: bangordailynews.com.