AntarcticDoctor

The last storm has finally cleared sufficiently for me to make an inspection of my tent, and see how it held up to the hurricane-force winds of a true Antarctic blizzard.  The verdict?  Admirably, but not without injury.  Had we been forced to spend the duration of the storm in the tent we would certainly have survived; just as certainly it would not have been comfortable.  Although the tent stayed secured thanks to the multitude of pegs and two extra stays connected to snow-pickets, the flysheet and several poles could not survive the onslaught of 185 km/h wind:

Kudos where they are due however:  despite the ferocious wind the tent was still standing, still pegged down and although there was damage to the flysheet the inner tent was unharmed.  Part of the explanation is that there was significant built-up of snow between the fly and tent, which created a protective shell around the inner.  Survival yes, comfort no;  Antarctica 1, Tent 0.

Newsflash – we’ve just has the strongest winds in 5 years here at SANAE IV.  Gusts reaching 51.6 m/sec or a phenomenal 185.8 km/h are battering the base, and the static discharge leaves every surface crackling with electricity.   Hope for my tent is rapidly fading…

It’s the middle of winter in Antarctica, the temperature has just dropped below -40°C, and it’s pitch dark outside.  What do you do?  Well, you pitch your tent, of course!

Not wanting to let the opportunity to emulate the great explorers slip by, Daleen, Morgan and I spent the night camping near the base.  To add to the ambience, I took a copy of Aspley Cherry-Garrard’s “The Worst Journey in the World (an epic tale of a winter sledging journey in Antarctica alomst 100 years ago) and read passages aloud to the amusement of the others.

Despite having three people in a two-man expedition tent, the cold soon invaded everything, and although we were warm in double down sleeping-bags the temperature in the tent dropped to -32°C, which left every surface covered in ice crystals.

Although there was initially no wind, by the next day a storm was moving in and the wind rapidly picked up to 60 knots (110km/h), buffeting the tent continuously and eunsuring a constant fine rain of ice.  Eventually, it was not the weather but empty stomachs and full bladders forced us back to the base, leaving the tent pegged down and snow-picketed but at the mercy of the elements.  The shape was distorting in the wind,but she stood firm.