We are strangers in a strange land. The world we knew is gone and this morning we awoke to the shudders of the ship as if she too was chilled by our icy surroundings. The temperature had dropped below 0°C and the endless view of drifting plains of ice hailed back to my readings of The Endurance by Ernest Shackleton. The Palmer, like the Endurance, wended its way through the cracks of this giant ice puzzle, and each time the crack closed we felt the impact of the ship's hull against the young pack ice. Lunchtime in the galley met with little conversation, mostly due to the ear splitting sound of breaking ice, and partly with the silent prayers of finding ice free waters.
The hope was that in scheduling the cruise earlier in the season we would find this area of the Weddell Sea more ice free than last year. After looking around our proposed drill site #2 we decided to move northwestward to site #4 in hopes of finding more open waters. A break in the ice breathed life into everyone, and faces all over the ship showed growing optimism. The ice conditions improved by the time we reached site #4, however, the call was made to proceed onward to site #6. While ice conditions had improved, Captain Mike was still hesitant about our chances of maintaining position long enough to start drilling.
After arriving at drill site #6 the ship began to hold its position. We made two attempts at retrieving sediment with a Kasten core, but were only successful in bringing up a small handful of sediment at the end of the core barrel. This is an indicator that the bottom is hard and likely a till (glacially deposited sediment). Tonight we will string pipe and evaluate our ability to stay in position tomorrow morning when we can see the our enemy in the light of day . . . ice.
PS. For those of you following the journal entries closely I must make a confession. I fear that I was to blame for the rough seas we encountered in the Drakes Passage. Secretly in my heart I wished to be tested in battle, to prove my unflinching stomach in the face of daunting seas. Alas, I feel that my pride incurred Poseidon's wrath and thus forced me to my knees . . . literally. Greasy grilled cheese sandwiches and high seas just don't mix! My stomach is not the cast iron container I thought it was. It didn't help that afterwards my advisor Dr. John Anderson was waiving a tuna melt in front of my face, and laughing.
R. Tyler Smith
Rice University
Tyler and Brandi getting ready for the first core.
Photo by Fred Weaver.
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