Post the Ninth

So, nine posts in and finally we get to Davis.  Finally!

Swim-Swim was beginning to despair of us ever arriving, bless his impatient little penguin noggin. He was just so pants-wettingly eager to get ashore and start publishing our blog posts that the series of small delays to our arrival were not sitting well with him. I had a quiet word with him, and assured him that it would all happen in due course, but I don’t think it sank in.

Anyway, Sunday morning came, and he and I were slated to travel in the first group of helicopter flights ashore. Passengers were listed in order of priority, and Hannah, Swim-Swim and I were amongst the top dozen. Evidently there are few people more important to get onto the station than the kitchen hands.

Yeah. Bizarre. Still, that was the decision, and who was I (a mere slushy, albeit an uber-slushy) to argue?

The hopes of the powers-that-be had originally been that the sea ice would be thick enough to take vehicular traffic, and that therefore passenger transfer could take place on the ice. The many delays to the voyage scotched that plan good and proper though, since by the time we got there the ice was not strong enough.

Therefore, the only option left was transport by helicopter. Darn it all. Shucks. Blast. 

So, here I am, in the ship’s library, getting all trussed up in the exceedingly fashionable straitjacket immersion suit – a requirement for helicopter travel over water in the Antarctic.

Sartorial splendour

The immersion suit is designed to keep you both warm and buoyant in the -1.9°C water in the event of the helicopter ditching in the ocean. As a consequence each suit is made of about 13 square kilometres of neoprene. It is very Antarctic appropriate, though, since wearing one does force you waddle like a penguin.

Still, if wearing one will both

    a) allow me to undertake the helicopter journey, and

    b) help me to not be dead in the event of the helicopter impersonating a submarine,

then I will happily agree to wear one.

My name was duly called out, and I waddled up to the helideck, where some very nice crew members assisted me in boarding our sky-chariot. And here, to prove I am not fibbing, is a photo I took of the instrument panel of the helicopter while I waited for the flight to get under way.

Not fibbing

A sight very familiar to most of you, I am sure.

And, to show even more that I am not fibbing, here is another photo. This one is of Dave Pullinger, the pilot. Dave is a very nice man whose job it is to put the helicopter in the sky.

Dave Pullinger, 'Copter Jockey

And put the helicopter in the sky he did.

I didn’t take many photos during the flight – a flight which, due to the ship’s proximity to the station, only lasted 90 seconds or so. The reason was that I wanted to use the camera to video the flight; a laudable idea under most circumstances. However, in these circumstances, my camera’s auto-focus decided that it would be preferable to focus on the dirty cockpit glass than anything on the other side of it.

*sigh*

So, I have about 50 seconds of video footage of a dirty cockpit window, accompanied by loud helicopter noises. Just what I always wanted. Full of win.

But, I did get this shot about half way through the flight.

Woo hoo.

At the other end, AGSOs Jenn, Matt and Rachel assisted us to safely leave the area without decapitation (or something like that), and got our bags for us. (AGSO stands for Air Ground Support Officer. Or something like that).

So helpful

So Swim-Swim and I got safely to Davis un-immersed and with our heads still attached. A rippingly fine start in anyone’s book I should say.

First order of business was to get out of that immersion suit. And what a relief that was! Then it was time to toddle down to the station mess (shortly to be the focus of my working life) to meet with the outgoing Station Leader (Alison Dean), who gave us the official address and station induction. 

A quick guided tour of the station and facilities soon thereafter, and it was time to move into our accommodation.

Next in order of priority? It’s December, right? Naturally the most important thing to do was put up my Christmas tree in my room. Then to dig out one of Swim-Swim’s good chums, Fat Santa. And here they are, being jolly chummy together next to the Christmas tree.

Festive

Ho ho ho.

Now we are here.