Green Gorge

Back again!
I spent this last trip down at Green Gorge while I mapped another section of volcanics. Green Gorge boasts one of the prettiest huts, a cedar cabin imported as a kit from Canada. I was staying with a team of biologists who are studying the effects of human contact on royal penguins, so there were 5 of us in the hut most nights. A little snug, but fun- Mel, Brian, Nick and Al are really great people, and super funny- I felt like I was laughing the whole time I was there. I am amazed that they can all stay in such good spirits, considering that they are all together for 24 hours a day, living and working together! They are measuring the responses of the penguins when approached by people- they have these fake eggs that they slip underneath the penguins that each has a little microphone that records the birds' heart rate, swapping them for the real eggs which they put in an incubator for the duration of the experiment. Then they approach the animal while videotaping its response and recording its little heart rate and how this changes during various times during the approach, and from this they will develop guidelines for tourists that visit this type of penguin (ie., royals and macaronis) here, down on the ice or on other sub-Antarctic islands.

Green has the added bonus of having a beach that is very easy to land the boats on (we have a small fleet of zodiacs used to transport people and supplies between the ships and around the island) so the food there is the best of all the huts on the island. Fresh fruit and vegetables, meat, sometimes a little home brewed beer. With so many people and such great food, we cooked feasts and ate like kings- one night Al even went so far as to cook a beef roast with a mustard-garlic-rosemary glaze, accompanied by roast pumpkin and onions and peas. Far from the normal field fare!

The night before I planned to leave Green, we got a call on the sked from Mel (we radio the station every night at 8 when we are in the field to let them know that we are still alive and to tell them what our plans are for the next day- this is known as the evening schedule, or the "sked", more commonly), telling us that she and Brian wouldn't be back to Green from VJM the next day as planned, because Brian had been asked to help out with boating. They were bringing supplies down to Hurd Point in the boats on the next morning, since there had been a favorable weather report and Hurd was in dire need of food and other necessities. It isn't often that conditions are good enough to get boats around Hurd Point- it acts like a mini Cape Horn, with the predominant westerly winds pounding the boats as soon as they round the point from the east coast, so an absolutely still day is required for Hurd boating. I asked her if they were coming to Green, because I had 2 buckets of rocks that needed to go back to VJM. She said she didn't think so, but she would mention it to Robb, our station leader, and told us to check back in the morning at 7.

Boating

The morning dawned still and gray- there was almost no swell on the sea and it looked as mirror-like as the Southern Ocean can be, smooth and silver, without even a puff of wind. Perfect boating weather. We radioed at the scheduled time, and they hadn't decided what they were going to do- said they'd call us back at 7:30 with the plan. At 8, Robb rang us back- said Hurd was happening, and they were going to stop by Green on the way back, and was there anyone there that was returning to station that would be interested in a ride? I started a little, "whoopee, pick me pick me pick me" dance- few Macquarie Island experiences compare with zipping along in a little red boat over a turquoise sea, penguins all around, the shining emerald isle rising in front of you. He said cool, be ready when the boats arrive, and they'd chuck an extra dry suit in a boat for me. I waited and waited, looking out the window, bags all packed and lined up- they finally returned from dropping supplies at Hurd, and pulled up on the beach at Green to get me at 1 p.m.. I grabbed my pack and lugged my rocks as quickly as I could with Rebecca (fur seal biologist) helping me carry it all down to the zodiac being held ashore by Cal (plumber). We secured my gear and samples in the boat as Cal tossed me my dry suit- which I caught in a spray of water. "Sorry about that," he said, "we had a bit of a problem coming around Hurd Point- the boat got a little filled with water, and your dry suit is now a wet suit." He thought this was wonderfully funny. I put my stocking feet inside the boots of the dry suit (which is meant to keep the wearer dry inside of it) and they squelched into the pools of water in each shoe. I shuddered as the damp interior clung to my thermal covered arms and legs, cold and wet, most unpleasant! Of course everyone laughed and laughed at my discomfort as I complained loudly... insensitive louts.

But my body warmed the suit up pretty quickly as we grabbed the boat and turned it into the waves, Bec and I on the right, Cal on the left. We got it floating, Cal said, "okay, in you go", Bec and I hopped in, he fired up the motor after a few false starts (always a tense moment- will he get it started before the next wave hits us?) and we roared off to join the other two boats waiting for us offshore. Everyone was in good spirits- it was a gorgeous day, the delivery to Hurd went smoothly, it was still early and the world was beautiful. We raced down the coast, maneuvering our boat to splash the others, admiring the sea and island and her residents. We cruised into Sandy Bay checking out the seals and penguins and the giant petrels from the water. A pair of ellie bulls had a small skirmish and the loser charged into the water right toward us, ducking under and disappearing before he reached us. Pretty bizarre angle to see this from! We pulled up, and everyone took turns "falling" in, to "practice getting into the boats from the water", you know...safety first and all that! (my swim was pretty short, since my suit was instantly chilled to 4 degrees Celsius when I jumped in with its soggy interior!)

So I felt like a bit of a wimp after this trip, eating like a pig for two weeks and then getting a boat ride back...so much for roughing it!

It has been really dry still, which is good for geology, but not without other drawbacks. Because of the low rainfall (we received only 40mm last month instead of the usual 80mm) we are having some problems with the water supply on station and in some of the field huts that fill their water tanks from rain. On the station, our water comes from a dam at Gadget's Gully up on top of the plateau which collects runoff from several small streams and then a pipe diverts it to us. With the low water levels, the streams aren't flowing as freely as usual so e.coli bacteria has been building up, presumably from skuas dropping the remains of animals into streams that feed the dam. We emptied and flushed the dam twice, in the hopes that the source was in the dam itself, but to no avail- the bacteria are still there, indicating that it is coming from higher up. We have treated the water so the bacteria is dealt with, but supplies are still dwindling. We are now rationing our water (1-4 minute showers, no baths) and praying for rain.

"Slushy"

I have been back now for a few days, during which I carried out my duty as kitchen assistant (known as "slushy" in the Australian Antarctic, a noun that refers to both the person and the activity). Everyone on station is required to help in the kitchen about once a month for two consecutive days (two people per day), less frequently for those who spend most of their time in the field. I always enjoy the time in the kitchen- I love to cook and feed people, and being in the mess all day I get to see everyone on station at some point which is fun. I was slushy on Sunday, which is the cook's day off so the slushies are the cooks on that day as well, with varying results! Corey (elephant seal biologist, and fabulous cook) was working with me, and we pulled out all the stops, whipping up the Texas food that I miss so much. Gumbo, beef and vegetarian fajitas with homemade tortillas (which we got Simone (surveyor) to help with), chipotle chicken, frijoles borrachos, rice, 2 kinds of salsa and guacomole. We made enough food for an army, but when the carnage was finished, all that was left was a little gumbo, 2 pieces of chicken and some rice and beans, and lots of full bellied expeditioners. I'm glad everyone liked it, but I really was hoping for some leftovers!

Wildlife news

The elephant seal breeding season is winding down rapidly. The cows are leaving to head back to Antarctica for a much needed feed. They nurse their pups for 6 weeks, during which time they lose 1/3 of their body weight which is almost all passed on to the pup- one of the most efficient energy transfers from mother to offspring in the animal kingdom. After that, I suspect they are pretty hungry about now! The bulls are mellowing out as their testosterone levels drop, and can actually be seen lying together in piles, which never would have happened a few weeks ago. As the cows leave, their weaned pups (known as "weaners") are ejected from the harems and roam in little packs everywhere. The weaners are slowly taking over the station, sneaking up on porches and into workshops with carelessly latched doors, piling up on walkways and acting indignant when interrupted in their sleep by intrusive humans. They have lost their black pup fur and now have their gorgeous silver grey fur, hugely fat, impossibly adorable little sausages providing much amusement for all.

We are now entering the period of the elephant seal moult, which will carry on for the rest of the summer. This is the period when they return to shed a layer of skin and fur, which usually takes a few weeks for each animal. The first animals to arrive are the youngest non-breeding animals, around 1-3 years old. The yearlings that are arriving all look exhausted and amazed to have actually made it back to Macquarie Island after their epic journey of an average of 5000 kilometers round trip (yes, 5000, this is not a typo) to the ice and back. Many of them don't survive this first trip, and many others have returned slimmer than they were at weaning (not good when the sole purpose of your trip is to eat.) I am really impressed by those that have returned, regardless of their girth, and I always give them an enthusiastic "Good job! You made it!" when I pass them.

The giant petrels are in heaven right now, feasting on the post-breeding season remains. The beaches have many dead bulls killed in combat as well as cows and pups usually killed by careless bulls. The "GPs" are the vultures of Macquarie, the B52s of the bird world, large heavy-bodied birds that lumber awkwardly until they take flight. They are magnificent in the air, and will buzz us, their wings sounding a "whoosh" as they pass. Their chicks are just starting to hatch as well, cute white balls of fluff. Because of their nesting habits, our movement around the island is somewhat restricted- we are required to steer clear of nesting birds as they are very skittish and can be easily spooked off the nest, providing a nice meal for the skuas. So we must choose alternate routes which are sometimes considerably more difficult that the original, or even forgo working sites that we would like to- all part of working on Macquarie Island!

The gentoo penguin chicks, so tiny just a couple of weeks ago, are now beginning to leave the nest and are entering what is known as the "creche" stage. The chicks are mobile now, and much like the weaners, roam in packs or sleep in big fluffy floppy piles. The difference is their parents are still feeding them, much to the parents' apparent vexation- the chicks run behind the fleeing parents, crying piteously for a meal, which the parents usually grudgingly give them once they are tired of running. A rather comical sight!

Back to the rocks and critters with me-

Hope you all are well