The extreme cold and isolation of Antarctica creates a unique environment
and opportunity for scientific study. In this article, the author explores
what it's like to do research in one of the most remote places on Earth.
You can't get there from here
Not easily, anyway. Night follows day and lasts for several months of the
year, and the nearest supplies and spare parts are thousands of air miles
away. Moreover, the risk of losing your extremities to frostbite is high
even in the middle of summer. But if you fancy abandoning the attractions of
city life and seeking solace in the seeming cold and isolation, then
Antarctica may be the place for you. You have to be dedicated and love the
science you are studying, perhaps even more than the scientist back home.
But for some, the extreme conditions are part of the attraction. Antarctica,
a land of opportunity?
Antarctic discoveries like the ozone hole and collapsing ice shelves fire
the public imagination with fears of imminent global catastrophe, but as
with much popular science, the headline grabbers are really only the tip of
a very big iceberg. There are almost as many types of scientists carrying
out the same diverse range of studies in the last continent as elsewhere in
the world. Climatologists do everything from studying the changing depth of
ozone high above their heads to digging out columns of ancient frozen mud
from deep beneath the ice in the hope of tracking prehistoric weather.
Ecologists, meanwhile, watch everything from penguins and seals to polychaetes and stygarctidae.
Glaciologists observe collapsing ice shelves while mineralogists assess
inorganic content. Micropaleontologists, geochemists, historians, and even
cosmologists watch over the fallout from supernovae. Medical researchers,
too, spend time keeping a weather eye on the health of the inmates of
various research centers. Five thousand scientists head south each year.
The British Antarctic Survey (BAS) says there are about 5,000 international
scientists from 27 national research organizations working on the continent
during any one year. The BAS - as well as such stations as the United
States' Mac Town (formally known as McMurdo), Russia's Vostok Station, the
coldest and most isolated place on Earth, or Germany's Georg von Neumayer
station - serves the scientific community with various observations of
Antarctica. The Antarctic ice sheet covers an area the size of the United
States and Mexico combined, so there is still plenty of open, desolate space
out there.
The BAS recruitment literature claims that scientists working in Antarctica
are actually among the fittest in the world, and that since Antarctica is
far from sources of pollution and disease, it is probably the healthiest
place in the world. You don't get to work there if you are past your prime,
prefer the soothing climate of warmer climes, have a weakness of spirit, or
simply fail the rigorous medical tests that research organizations such as
BAS put you through before you are posted to the deepest South. This
scientist and her subject matter thrive at extremes.
"I became fascinated by the ability of microbes to thrive at extremes," says
BAS scientist Alison George, "and jumped at the chance of working on
Antarctic bacteria 'in the field.' " Like many other visitors, she was
apprehensive of her first visit. "I have only visited the Antarctic once,
but then for 18 continuous months. I was apprehensive of committing so much
time to somewhere so very different from anything I had known." She was
excited, however and, "pretty sure that I'd like it, having fallen in love
with the place from colleagues' descriptions."
The Antarctic truly provides researchers with an "extreme" environment in
which to work - in many senses of the word. Jennifer Skerratt of the
Antarctic Marine Microbial Biotechnology Program in Hobart, Tasmania worked
as a volunteer for Australia's CSIRO (Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial
Research Organization) marine research after completing her degree, and
siezed the chance to work there. "Hobart is the 'gateway to the Australian
Antarctic,'" she explains, "so it was really a case of being in the right
place at the right time." Her stay was for five months. "I only knew of two
other people who had been there, and they were both experienced, older, male
scientists, so being a young female, I wasn't sure what to expect," Skerratt
says. BAS' George adds, "After a few weeks of feeling homesick and getting
used to the new culture and language - yes, Antarcticans have their own
vocabulary - I loved the atmosphere on base." Where else to discover
cold-adapted enzymes?
Skerratt's research involves isolating cold-adapted enzymes from bacteria.
"These have potential in various food processing, bioremediation, and
janitorial industrial applications," she explains. "For instance, as
low-temperature biological washing powders or potential medical products."
Skerratt was worried that it might be dangerous, but her biggest fear was of
the unknown. "I had no comprehension of what it would be like," she
confessed. But her fears were quickly allayed on arrival. "It
is still the most spectacular place I have ever been to - haunting,
untouched, and extreme. I felt that it was so spectacular that I could never
fully absorb and appreciate the beauty." "The day-to-day excitement helped
to pass the time."
Carol Mancuso Nichols was also astounded by the beauty of the Antarctic. She
became involved with research there when she was invited to participate in
an expedition to study Ace Lake in the Vestfold Hills near the Australian
Antarctic Base, Davis. "The trip to Antarctica was a wonderful opportunity
to be involved in an exciting project in a magnificent environment," she
enthuses. "I was apprehensive about being far from loved ones, but the
day-to-day excitement helped to pass the time."
Ace Lake has a lot of secrets to reveal, microbiologically speaking. "It is
one of the few meromictic lakes in the world," explains Mancuso Nichols. "It
is ice-covered nearly all year long, and as a result, the top and bottom
waters don't mix." This means that there are layers within the lake, and
about halfway down, there is no oxygen, so the microorganisms that live at
this depth are peculiar. "I am using lipid markers to characterize the
community structure of these microorganisms," she adds. Some scientists
study other scientists.
The conditions in this extreme environment can be stressful, and this is
often a major determinant of one's immune response. Researchers such as
Desmond Lugg of the Australian Antarctic Division have observed
physiological changes in the staff and scientists spending prolonged periods
there. Lugg has measured alterations in T cell function as well as other
immunological changes that might explain the reduced cognition, mood
disturbances, increased energy requirements, and a decline in thyroid
activity recorded by other researchers.
Randall Hyer, now a civil military liaison officer at the World Health
Organization in Geneva, overwintered as a U.S. Navy physician at Mac Town.
This most remote of all earthbound medical postings makes telemedicine
crucial to good practice. Radio, fax, and now the Internet can save lives
among workers in Antarctica when serious and life-threatening illnesses
emerge. "During my winter," Hyer says, "we had coronary artery disease,
acute appendicitis, hip dislocation, and complicated Colles' fracture of the
forearm, among others." All medical problems that occur anywhere in the
world can arise - with the possible exception of heatstroke - and the lack
of a local city hospital can make a simple problem into a real emergency.
Most important in riding out such emergencies is the personal contact with
outside specialists. "I knew many of the specialists personally, and this
human connection was my most important asset," Hyer explains. Subsyndromal
seasonal affective disorder is rampant.
Hyer was also apprehensive of the isolation, darkness, and whether he could
handle medical emergencies. "The isolation is the hardest. It is the lack of
new personalities and energy that wears people down,' he says. He points out
that seasonal affective disorder is rampant, although overt depression is
rare. He adds that compensating for that is the fact that the long, dark
winter beginning in March and running through August actually has "a nice,
cozy feeling." In addition, those who overwinter are rewarded with aurora
australis, the moon, the stars, and "an untouched, unpolluted, pristine
beauty that I will never forget."
For many scientists working in the Antarctic, much of their work is quite
physical. A degree of mechanical competency and a bit of lateral thinking
are called for when things go wrong, which, according to Skerratt, they
often do. "There is a need to be able to get on well with other people from
a variety of backgrounds - mechanics, scientists, public servants, chefs,
and others," she adds. At each station, workers are essentially confined to
a microcosm, and "people skills" come to the fore. "There was very little
privacy."
Mancuso Nichols agrees. "Living very closely with the people you are 'thrown
together with' is very interesting - a mix of scientists, technical support
people, and trades people." A lack of privacy means that you get to know
your colleagues rather well. "I'd say lifetime friendships were formed in my
four months in the Antarctic," Nichols adds. But not everyone wants to be so
close. "There was very little privacy," points out BAS' George. "In the
summer, with up to 100 people on base, I was sharing a room with three
others. Despite being in one of the most remote locations in the world, it
was very hard to 'get away from it all.' You couldn't disappear off on your
own, for safety reasons."
Having the rare ability to enjoy oneself under such difficult conditions can
be very beneficial, as Skerratt can testify. "We were collecting samples on
the ice one day when it was below freezing and blowing so hard we could only
just stand up," she laughs. "The seawater was freezing on us as soon as it
touched our clothes, and the wind was so strong I had to hold the bottle to
be filled on a horizontal plane, and the water flowed in, in a perfect
straight horizontal line. It was a difficult day, but it's a memory of
sampling that I won't forget." In stark contrast, the scientists tend to
wear shorts and T-shirts indoors. Getting there can be half the trip.
The experience is not always fun and games. "We spent a summer at Davis,
although it took six weeks to get there since we were stuck in the ice for
four weeks!" says Mancuso Nichols. "We took three weeks to get back, via
Casey Station, which left only six weeks to collect profiles of water column
bacteria and sediment cores. That meant several helicopter chases to and
from the lake."
George offers some perspective on being a scientist in the Antarctic: "In
the company of the same people for so long, wearing practical clothes and no
makeup, I felt that gender became less and less of an issue. Being there
makes you realize what stupid games we play back in the so-called
'civilized' world."
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