Dear Fucked-Up Summer Person,

It must take a lot of supplies to keep the station running. How do you guys get everything you need?

Just curious,
You You

Dear You You,
The end of the summer season has arrived and winter draws near. The Original Fucked-Up Summer Person has left McMurdo and is presently getting hammered at a variety of expensive restaurants in Christchurch, New Zealand, so the editor is filling in until the Fucked-Up Winter-Over establishes himself. I am drinking Guinness.

Your question is a timely one, as we recently finished Ship Offload, when the yearly resupply vessel arrives to stock the station for the upcoming year. As you may know, there are no trees here, food can't be grown, and ore isn't yet mined. This means that every floorhockey stick, each bag of tortilla chips, and all the paperclips are imported. Almost everything McMurdo and Pole need for the next year of operation is brought by ship. That includes Rolos and urinal cakes.

The location of McMurdo Station was chosen in large part because it is about as far south as a ship can go in the world. Even so, there are complications, such as that McMurdo Sound is covered in sea ice so thick that planes can land on it, even for much of the relatively warm summer. However, once the ice runway has been moved at summer's end, an icebreaker arrives to cut a channel through the ice, so that the supply vessel can reach McMurdo to offload its cargo and then backload all the solid and hazardous waste that has accumulated from the previous year. (Garbage is Antarctica's main export by weight.) Around this time the fuel tanker also arrives and brings the millions of gallons of fuel that juice our power plant, planes, trucks, and heavy equipment. In general, that is what happens, but this year was a little different.

First of all, the icebreaker lost a propeller and limped through the ice like a shot dog. Normally wind would clear the channel of broken ice, but the channel scratched out by the lame icebreaker was very narrow, and a pesky gargantuan iceberg north of Ross Island contributed to the congestion. Because of these events, an alternate icebreaker was summoned late in the game from the Arctic, a second-rate polar region where the ice is not as hearty, so no one was sure if the new icebreaker could handle it. The second icebreaker did okay, though the ship's radar interfered with the local television signal, which drove the McMurdo smoking-lounge crowd to sputter furiously into their vodka.

By this time the weather was starting to cool, and the already thin channel was freezing as soon as the icebreakers cut it. This year's supply vessel was the American Tern, but around town it became known as "The Chicken of the Sea" because it sat timidly at the ice edge as the icebreakers ran the channel through the ice. Offload was delayed by over a week. Besides the extra cost of over thirty thousand dollars a day for the ship, this year's Offload expenses also include the cost of the second icebreaker (anyone got a number on this?), and an extra million dollars of fuel for all the increased vessel time. Eventually the supply vessel made it down the channel only to get stuck for a day as ice froze around it. With urgent maneuvering it became unstuck then docked at the ice pier, where Ship Offload proceeded smoothly except for when the captain shut down cargo operations because of some unaccounted for hazardous waste.

The American Tern departed, at which point we found that the entire year's supply of canned food had not arrived. This was because it had not been purchased. All the purchasing is done in the Denver office, where someone had overlooked one of the tabs in the supply spreadsheet software. The neglected electronic abstraction then thundered down to the end of the planet with no one to stand in its way. As mentioned earlier, agriculture is rare in Antarctica, so most of our food is either frozen or canned. The elimination of canned food thus has culinary and dietary significance. For a community whose farts already smell similar, the coming year's alignment of stench will be uncanny.

With the supply vessel gone, it was time for the fuel tanker to dock, but it couldn't get through the ice. The solution? Roll out to the fuel tanker four miles of fuel hose over sea ice that was last week being crushed by an icebreaker. As I write this in late February, managers from McMurdo, Denver, and Washington are barking in teleconferences and midnight meetings. Why? Every year at this time of the season, NSF has warned us, under threat of termination, that we are not to walk or ski on this sea ice because it is unsafe. But due to present needs, NSF wants to send heavy equipment operators in twenty-ton tractors and a whole herd of Fuellees onto that very ice. It takes literally eighty key-players and a dozen meetings to figure out how to deem "safe" what is traditionally "unsafe". And should one of the operators go through the ice, as has actually happened a few times in the last fifty years, these meetings also allow for the managers and aspiring managers to collectively target potential scapegoats amongst themselves.

Despite the historical record, none of the Operators are concerned. Nor are the Fuellees. In fact, they would walk or ski on the ice every year if they could, so nor are they afraid to work on it. But obvious to watchers of The Program is that once again the toggle switch of reality has been clicked on to "safe" for a short time in order to resolve a desperate situation, after which the switch will be clicked off and conditions will return to their "unsafe" status. (A few years ago NSF cried to the media and Congress about how "unsafe" was the present Dome at Pole in order to wheedle funding for the New Station. Is the Dome indeed "unsafe"? If so, it's not talked about at Pole. Click. Unsafe Enough to Alert Congress and the Media. Click. Safe Enough Not to Alert Pole Workers.) Click. Safe. Click. Unsafe.

This is how we get the things we need. Thanks for the question.

Yours,
Fucked-up Summer Person

If Antarctica is such a cool place, then why doesn't the NSF just populate McMurdo Base with volunteers? There must be millions of twenty-somethings from the USA who would love to go to Antarctica to look at the penguins and seals and pteropods. That way, all Occupational Health and Safety requirements would not be necessary, and you could go about where you pleased. You could go mountain climbing, ice climbing, cross country skiing and have a great time. You could choose to work a 4-day week. In addition, they would then always be able to afford to give you fresh fruit on top of your salads, and the kitchenhands might be more inclined to chop them up more decoratively, to improve everyone's state of happiness.

Just an idea
Love from a Kiwi girl
Wellington, New Zealand

Dear Kiwi Girl,
Great idea, unfortunately it will never happen. If you take only one lesson away from this website, please let it be this: Antarctica is not about fun, it's about work. Your vision of a utopian Antarctic society where people cross-country ski, go hiking, and frolic with the wildlife whenever the mood strikes them is indeed pleasant, but not realistic. The problem with bringing a bunch of wide-eyed volunteers down here is that you wouldn't then be able to control them with threats of taking their money away. For instance, how motivated do you think the average person would be to wash the dishes of 1,200 other volunteers? Does scrubbing toilets and sorting through trash sound like fun jobs to do for free? Over the years I've worked in both the Galley and the Waste department and, believe me, I'm sure nobody would do those jobs for free after a week or two. Another consideration is the cost of getting people down here. Those military flights are quite expensive. After the hypothetical volunteers got here they would undoubtedly work a few days, if any, then quit. The turnover would be ridiculous, and the cost of flying down replacements would easily outweigh any savings from unpaid salaries. As far as the company buying more fresh fruit for the workers with any extra cash lying around, there is as much chance of that happening as me becoming the next station manager. Trust me when I say any extra money would be quickly fired up to the top brass of Raytheon. They would be dining on hundred-dollar-bill salads as we ate yet another meal consisting of frozen food older than half of the station. But I love your idea. Don't stop dreaming, and thanks for the question.

Yours,
Fucked-up Summer Person

Yo fucked-up douchebag,
If I am the lead role in a movie in McMurdo, slip and break some ribs during filming, forcing me to seek medical treatment by Dr. Jellyfingers of the greater McMurdo Medical Clinic who does nothing for my abdominal inflictions but inform me that my heart murmur can be compared to ovarian cancer, can I sue [the director]?

Cosmic Bman

Dear Cosmic Bman,
First off, I'm not a douchebag, merely a fucked-up summer person trying to pass on wisdom. Pray tell, what does "Bman" stand for? Blowjob Man perhaps? What type of film were you making at the time of your supposed injury anyway? And to assume you were the lead is a bit ridiculous. As any actor knows, making a movie can be a glorious but dangerous undertaking. Any injury sustained by an actor is part of the price you pay for making art. The director cannot be sued, and whining is frowned upon. Although from the tone of your letter it sounds like whining is your specialty. What were you thinking going to Medical anyway? Everyone knows a chap can go into Medical with a sore finger and end up on the next flight North diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor. You should've just found a roll of duct tape, taped up your side, and gotten on with the shoot Sally. Next time don't fall down.

Regards,
Fucked-up Summer Person

I recently moved to L.A. and was astonished to see my local supermarket selling Newcastle Brown Ale for over $9/six-pack. How much does the average Joe pay for imported ale in Antarctica?

Kevin

Dear Kevin,
Good question. Make no mistake: booze is definitely part of the Antarctic experience. I myself have been to the ice numerous times and have never seen a penguin close up, but have seen many an empty bottle of booze. Although the average Antarctic Joe doesn't have as many choices as a fellow shopping for spirits back home, the only store in town sells about four types of beers. Most of the beers offered are of the New Zealand persuasion. The most popular of these seems to be Canterbury Draft, which sells for $5 per six malt friends. This is the common price for all beers. A beer at the bar will cost you $2, as will a cocktail. The store also sells Guinness and Speights. I've toured the Speights brewery in New Zealand and can recommend the brew highly. Sierra Nevada was offered one season and was a big hit, though this year's resupply vessel brought down mainly Coors Light and MGD. The reaction was one of disgust from those that saw the goods as they were unloaded from the ship's containers. Why someone ordered those beers is a mystery. One theory is that someone is trying to make the station feel "more American" and "like home". Of course, Antarctica is anything but home, and why drinking crappy beer would make people feel better about being away from home is beyond me. I tend to stick to the hard alcohol, or "sweet booze", as it is referred to amongst my peers. One can pick up a bottle of Tequila for a mere $9. A bargain, but a dangerous purchase if enjoyed irresponsibly. Bushmills has also found its way into my shopping cart on more than one occasion, and it sells for a fair price of $20 for a big bottle. My advice is to stick with the hard booze and leave the beer for homesick saps. Thanks for writing, and keep tipping back the cold ones.

Regards,
Fucked-up Summer Person

Is there really a 300-degree club?

Yours,
Hasn't Seen A Cold Day In Too Long

Dear Hasn't Seen A Cold Day In Too Long,
Thanks for the question. Yes indeed there is a 300-degree club. This happens at Pole Station. I have not yet been privileged enough to partake in this activity, but will hopefully get my chance next year. I've got a lead on a job for the upcoming contract year. As you may have heard, when the temp is -100 outside they enter the steamy 200F sauna and then bolt naked like crazed hyenas out to the geographical south pole marker for a quick lap. I understand they do wear shoes. Otherwise their feet would stick to the ice.

Regards,
Fucked-up Summer Person

My wife recently left me for being too middle class. Unfortunately, this was immediately following a move to the Idaho panhandle, ostensibly to be closer to her family. Indeed. I am currently a lonely man contemplating a move. I have been considering Portland, OR; Reno, NV; and Barharbor, ME. Should Antarctica be on my list?

I have a second, unrelated question: are there gun laws down there?

Dan Ewing
Potlatch, Idaho

Dan,
Great question. Definitely move to Maine. I hear it's a lovely state, and besides that it's very far from Idaho. Although Reno does offer gambling and hot showgirls. Tough call, but if it were me I'd put some miles between me and the bitch that left me for "being too middle class". Sorry but you can't actually move to Antarctica and, to be honest, you wouldn't want to. Good news though: you can come down here for either 6 or 12 month contracts. I'm not sure what your skills are, but I'm confident there is a job for you here. Here's what you do: gather up your belongings (after she takes what she wants), get a storage space (you probably won't need a very big one after she's done with you), and hit the road. Raytheon Polar Services is the company you need to get in touch with. I believe there is a job fair in Colorado sometime in March or maybe April. You don't have to go to the job fair, but it does increase your odds of getting a job. Trust me, Antarctica is the place for you. But don't come looking for love. Not too many ladies this far south. Some say it's the southernmost sausage party on the planet. It sounds like you might need a break from the fairer sex anyway.

Regarding gun laws in Antarctica: there are none. That's because there are no guns here. Rumor has it that there is one pistol on station that only the station manager has access to. Believe me, if you knew some of the complete idiots that get hired for that position you too would tremble at the rumor.

Yours,
Fucked-Up Summer Person

How does time work there? I mean, the closer you get to the actual pole, time zones are practically minutes away, aren't they? Do you even bother?

J

J,

I appreciate the question. With 24-hour sunlight in the summer and then 24-hour darkness in the winter, the passing of time is indeed hard to mark. To be technical, we are on Greenwich Mean Time +12:00. We share the same time zone as New Zealand. This makes things easier in regards to flights. The air operations are flown out of Christchurch, NZ, and it helps coordinate things by being on the same time zone. The South Pole follows this practice as well.

Yours,
Fucked-Up Summer Person

What would happen to a woman who became pregnant at McMurdo? How about if it was the beginning of Winter? Is this touched upon in your contracts?

Sara Lorimer
New York City

Dear Sara,

Thanks for the question. Just like anywhere else, when you have people working and living together in close quarters, sex is going to happen. So naturally pregnancy is a concern. Is there anything more miraculous and beautiful than the conception of a child? Down here there is, and it's called work. Back in the states if a woman was to inform her employer that she was pregnant, they would congratulate her, give her a nice card, throw her a party complete with a cake decorated with a pair of frosted cute baby booties, and wish her luck during her maternity leave. If that same knocked-up gal was to approach her McMurdo boss and share that exact joyous news, she would get a pink slip and a seat on the next plane off the continent. Pregnancy when it occurs in Antarctica is considered a health risk. The woman would be treated the same as a person with a broken leg.

Things get tricky when the sun sets for good in the winter. If it is early enough in the winter, say sometime before May, they would try to fly a plane down to medevac the pregnant woman. But, if the pregnancy came to light later in the season, when it's too cold to land a plane, they would have to wait until early August to fly her out.

NSF and Raytheon try to prevent pregnancies by supplying the community with free condoms. One can pick up said prophylactics at the medical clinic or at various bathrooms on station. This is effective only if these locations are stocked. (Two winters back there was a gentleman who hoarded all the condoms becuase he was traveling to Russia and planned to sell them on the black market.) Women can also get "the pill" from the clinic. A co-worker of mine told me that one year the doctor gave her expired birth control pills. Because of this most girls bring their own supply. It's not known what would happen to the father of an Antarctic love child. My guess is, besides getting an earful from the gal and high fives from his friends, probably nothing.

Yours,
Fucked-Up Summer Person

Do you do a lot of research there?

Signed,
Just Curious

Dear Just Curious,

I work in the Supply department at McMurdo Station, nestled on a volcanic island off the coast of Antarctica. I excel at counting nuts and bolts. I'm sure you've read in your local rag or seen on countless television documentaries that Antarctica is a pristine land full of scientists performing valuable research. True, there are some scientists here doing experiments on the atmosphere (or lack thereof), as well as various other types of research, but the bulk of the population is made up of contract laborers. Earlier this week a group of these workers was called in to hand-pick rocks from the dirt road outside the main laboratory because a scientist had stepped on a volcanic rock and stumbled, which is not surprising since the island is composed of volcanic rock. A few days later in front of the same laboratory a scientist in a pickup truck rammed a concrete barrier that protects the main water and sewage lines. Sometimes we feel as if we are watching someone's little brat kids who are never happy no matter how much candy you feed them. If by research you mean babysitting and doing mindless inventories of often useless supplies, then yes I do a lot of research here.

Yours,
Fucked Up Summer Person

Dear Fucked-up Summer Person,
Do you celebrate the same holidays in Antarctica as we do in the States?

Signed,
Holly Day

Dear Holly Day,
Good question. We do in fact celebrate the same holidays. Eventually, that is. If a holiday falls within the work week, which is six days a week, our observance of said holiday will be that following weekend so that work will not be interrupted. For example, on the 28th of November as you dined on turkey, yams, and stuffing, our plates held servings of grilled tilapia, eggplant, and roast Tuscan pork. Not exactly what mom made at home. We will get Christmas day off, but not Labor Day. During the winter we have a Christmas party in July. No one knows why. There are no trees here, so Arbor Day is out, and no nod is given to President's Day either. Of course, every Saturday night seems like a holiday because Sunday is our day off. Sometimes Sunday is considered a holiday as well. We were told at a recent town meeting that Sunday the 29th is going to be our New Year's holiday. A manager stood in front of us with a straight face and rewarded us with a holiday on our day off. One might say on the 29th we are celebrating bend over, grab your ankles and Get Fisted day. Lubrication Day is observed on the 30th. Thanks for the question and happy holidays!

Yours,
Fucked-up Summer Person

[Update: In an unexpected turn of events, NSF at the last moment reinstated a second day off a few days before New Year's, thus Lubrication Day was not observed on the 30th. --Editor]

Ask a question to the Fucked-Up Summer Person at: summerperson@bigdeadplace.com

The Antarctic summer lasts from approximately October 1 to March 1. If you wish to ask a question during the Antarctic winter, from March 1 to October 1, please consult the Fucked-Up Winter-Over at: winterover@bigdeadplace.com

Big Dead Place cares about quality. That's why we cannot guarantee that the advice columnist will be at a particular Antarctic station, hold a particular title, write coherently, or treat you courteously. We cannot guarantee that the columnist will be the same person from week to week, as one's attention on the ice tends to wander from any activity that doesn't satisfy some immediate and crude desire. We can only guarantee that your columnist is presently in Antarctica writing from a state of devastating intoxication. If you suspect that your question has been given sober contemplation, please notify fscott@bigdeadplace.com and the Fucked-Up Antarctican will be destroyed so as not to infect the others.