Nacreous Lashes

"If our eyes we'd close then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee."
[Robert Service]
The Cremation Of Sam McGee is my favorite poem. It has been for as long as I can remember. Even as a child I longed to visit the Far North, the land that God forgot, though I never did buy into the idea that eyes could actually freeze shut.

My mistake.

Twice this week "my eyes did close and my lashes froze till sometimes I couldn't see". I guess my photo of Tyler's eye says it all. I borrowed his camera at work yesterday before we ran inside to warm our hands. The wind-chill dipped to 90 below zero, and our fingers felt like they'd been beaten with hammers. Cool picture though. Tyler's eyes ice up better than mine. Longer eyelashes I guess. Still, my lashes are long enough, and if they never freeze again, well. . . that's fine with me.

In case you're wondering where the moisture comes from to do this (since Antarctica is a frozen desert) I'll explain. It's our breath. Because of the way I dress, most of my breath freezes into a solid block of ice under my chin. Without a beard, it would get very uncomfortable. Instead, it just freezes my beard to my clothes. Tyler's neck gator lets his breath rise up to his eyes more. After some ice builds up, it's easy for wind-blown snow to stick. Eyes also produce moisture, but I doubt that has much to do with it.

DRINKS LIKE A FISH:


A few people have asked what "Eli the Ice Man" actually does down here. Aside from "drinking like a fish" (sorry, couldn't resist) he works as a general assistant for the LDB project. I've mentioned LDB before, NASA's "Long-Distance-Balloon" project. It's made up of six mobile buildings on huge skis. Eli was last week's Antarctic Explorer. This week, it's Mr. Scott Lamee:

SCOTT LAMEE

Scott hails from East China, Michigan. He is a husband and a father and a dangerous, dangerous man. He has, without a doubt, the sharpest, fastest wit on station. Open your mouth near Scott and you deserve what you get. I mean this man is quick. He is also an excellent electrician, and I've been learning a lot from him. My nephew Danny would be interested in his work on industrial robots. He even holds martial arts classes at night. Scott is one of the guys who's kept me sane down here, and for that most especially he has reached the lofty heights of. . .

ANTARCTIC EXPLORER OF THE WEEK:

I titled this update "Nacreous Lashes" because I'm jumping from topic to topic with little rhyme or reason. Lashes we've already dealt with. The other thing I wanted to mention this week was my first sighting of nacreous clouds. I included a photo of nacreous clouds in one of my early letters, taken here in 2004. I finally have some shots of my own, but from what I hear things are only going to get better, so I should probably wait before I share them. For now, here's a rather dull nacreous moment. Just wait till the sun hits them:



Nacreous clouds are amazingly beautiful, but like so many other things down here, their beauty is potentially hazardous to human beings. For one thing, these rare stratospheric anomalies only form at the coldest time of year. It has to be at least -90 Celsius for them to form. August is the coldest Antarctic month, but to see them we also need sunlight. Soon, the predawn will become a true dawn, and that will make temperatures climb. This leaves a small window for us to enjoy these insanely amazing clouds. But what makes them so special? Better photos will answer that. For now, I can tell you why they look like they do...

Nacreous clouds are evil. You've heard of the ozone hole that forms over Antarctica every year? Blame it on nacreous clouds. The mother-of-pearl appearance we see is a result of ozone being destroyed inside the clouds. In extreme cold, trace gases including chlorine get caught up in very high altitude clouds. The ozone gets caught in these clouds too, and forced into destructive contact with the gases. BLAM! Nacreous clouds.

DAY 183:

Well, it's been half a year (to the day) since I first stepped foot here. Hard at times, fun at times, unspeakably beautiful, and always unique. Our little town in the wild is nestled among the foothills of a volcano. They protect us from the worst of the winds, the storms, and the cold. But now we are paying a price for their service. . . they are blocking the return of the sun.

And so, a few of us scaled Observation Hill last Sunday to peer out across Ross Island, desperate for proof that the world still existed. At the summit, 700 feet above the station, Keith set up his tripod and struck a heroic pose. All I did was snap the picture. In MacTown the sky stays dark most of the time, but soon the first beams of direct sunlight will strike the top of Observation Hill. We will miss our auroras, but oh how we welcome the dawn.

"Embrace the light for it shows you the way."
"Embrace the darkness for it shows you the stars."

UNITED STATES ANTARCTIC PROGRAM

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