Surviving Disasters at Sea

Last week, I attended classes for professional mariners at the Maritime College of the State University of New York out at Fort Schyler, near the Throgg's Neck Bridge. The classes were a requirement of my officer's rating in the US Merchant Marine.

As part of the course, we fought oil fires aboard the

remains of a tugboat at a fire fighting training field out on Long Island. The fire chiefs who operate the facility put our class through all kinds of simulated fires, ranging from oil fires on deck, engine room fires below deck, and fires in sleeping quarters. The fires were hot and immensely smokey. It was 80 degrees F outside and the clothing was heavy. But the fundamental lesson that we learned is that if you keep your wits about you, act rapidly, stay low, and use the right tool and have the right people on your team, that these fires can indeed be put out and your ship saved.

The day before (slightly out of order), we practiced abandoning ship and survival at sea while floating in the ocean waiting for rescue. The fundamental lesson of that experience is that if one has hope, and focuses on living long enough to be rescued, one greatly increases the odds that he will survive. Lacking the will to survive and a spirit of cooperation, the odds are that even the heartiest seaman will die of exposure before rescue arrives.

Independent Spirits (Part 4): The Mechanics

Chris, a motorcycle maven back home in Britain and mechanical genius; a veteran of the British base at Rothera on the Antarctic Peninsula. Pictured below tending bar on Christmas Day is Scotty, a fellow British Antarctic veteran and a magician with metal and diesel engines.

Boris (above) and Pato (below) kept everything from falling apart during blows and made steady improvements to the place during the course of the season. Boris is pictured while installing a heater in a Weatherhaven used by visiting climbers. Pato is in the shop fabricating a wooden shelf for the privy.

Independent Spirits (Part 3): The Chefs

Christmas Dinner and Gift Exchange, 2006

Whatever hardships you might think the folks at Patriot Hills might endure, hunger is not one of them. The food is fabulous. Fresh produce and meats are flown in regularly, and I doubt anyone on the Antarctic continent ate as well as we. A devotee of curry, I was in seventh heaven when the Indian Navy expedition arrived and we were treated to one excellent Indian dish after another. Otherwise, lamb, steak, fantastic desserts, and more were the order of the day. I have never dined so well in my life, and certainly not in such excellent company. The chefs were accomplished outdoorsmen of their own. Whether running in the Antarctic marathon, leading an expedition on the last degree to the Pole, ski kiting in the vicinity of the base, or unloading drums down on the runway, the chefs at Patriot Hills were an integral part of the team.

Ronnie, chef, polar guide and world-class kite skier

Gavin, Australian chef, indefatiguable table tennis player, and marathoner

Malin, Norwegian chef, cross country skiier and dangerous "Sequence" player

Kim, now-Australian kitchen hand and enthusiastic rookie roller of fuel drums down on the runway; came down to join her husband Alan who installed and maintained the base's communications systems

Independent Spirits (Part 2)

These four women are so special that they rate a blog entry of their own. Tracy, Katie, Shelly and Liza operated the communications system at the US Amundsen-Scott Station at the South Pole during the 2006-07 system with cheerfulness and aplomb. We communicated with one another frequently whenever an expedition was approaching the Pole or when we were sending a flight their way. They hail from Alaska, Colorado and Massachusetts.

Independent Spirits (Part 1): The Pilots

(Above) My good friends, the nine-man crew of Ilyushin 'Sugar Mike Juliet' - Ukrainian veterans of the Soviet Air Force and a very agreeable and courageous bunch of fellows

Up on Martha's Vineyard we have an osprey nest a few hundred feet from our house. The male and female osprey find one another at the beginning of the season, bear and feed their young, and fly off in the fall. A few years ago, a scientific group decided to figure out where they went in winter and attached collars with radio directionfinding devices. To their surprise (but not my wife's), the pair separate for the entire winter. Our male osprey went down in the direction of Cuba while the female spent the winter in Venezuela. The scientists reported that even had the male and female ended up in the same spot, they probably would not have recognized one another. Yet each year they return to the same nest here on the Vineyard and raise their chicks.

Well, the denizens of Patriot Hills have likewise scattered to the four corners of the earth for the off season. I will not see them this coming year as I will not be going down. Here are some photos of them in the blog for posterity:

Lindsay , an Otter Co-pilot from Vancouver

Dave Leatherdale, veteran Antarctic pilot

Amy and Steve , Otter pilots