Points North, San Francisco 2/16/09

My month on the ice was up and now it was time to board the research icebreaker, the L.M. Gould, once again and begin the long journey home. While I was busy at Palmer Station, the Gould and her scientists and crew had been traveling around the Antarctic Peninsula collecting data on seawater, zooplankton, penguins, and more for the Long Term Ecological Research Network. (You can read about the Palmer LTER cruise and their research projects here.



The ship was stopping briefly at Palmer and then she would continue north, back to Punta Arenas, Chile. After a day of loading and unloading people and cargo, we departed my Antarctic home-for-a-month at 7 am. It is a Palmer tradition for folks remaining at the station to “plunge” (jump off the pier into the freezing cold Southern Ocean in their swimsuits) each time the Gould departs. As our ship pulled away an impressive number of people (considering the earliness of the hour) waved and then splashed one by one into the sea.

It was difficult to say goodbye to this remote little corner of Antarctica, to my new friends at the station, to the landscapes and wildlife I had come to know in some small ways during my stay, and to the unique collection of sounds that define this place at this point in time. Unlike many of the other Palmerites leaving on the Gould, who will be coming back to work again next year, I do not know if I will ever have another chance to visit Antarctica or Palmer Station. And even if I am able to return in some years, this part of Antarctica will likely sound quite different then.

I try to imagine what Palmer will sound like in the future, as the western Antarctic Peninsula continues to warm. Eventually as it melts back, the Marr Ice Piedmont (the glacier covering Anvers Island) will stop calving into Arthur Harbor, which lies adjacent to the station. The monstrous booms and cracks that punctuated Palmer’s soundscapes this austral summer will cease. (In my last days at the station I was finally successful at recording the glacier calving. Here’s an example recorded with my Sennheiser MKH 30 and 40 mics and a Sound Devices 702 .) Since the local calving glacier is the source of summertime brash ice and icebergs, these too will largely disappear, though some ice may still float in from other areas.



Within 10 years or less, the honking, kazoo-like sounds of the Adelie Penguin colonies will be gone. Here’s a recording of a very small Adelie colony with adolescent chicks who will soon be fledgling. This was made a few days before I left, also with my Sennheiser/Sound Devices setup. The Adelies won’t be extinct in Antarctica, but in the future they will be nesting further south, where there is more sea ice.

Sea ice, which supports their main food, krill, is rapidly disappearing in the Palmer area. Also, increased snowfall, another result of warmer air, is making it more difficult for the Adelies to build their stone nests and raise their young. Palmer’s Adelies will soon be replaced by Chinstraps and Gentoos, penguins who are less dependent on sea ice, and who already have colonies nearby. (You can read more about the decline of Palmer’s Adelie colonies here: http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0409/feature3/fulltext.html http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/19918376/). Of course there will be a myriad more changes, as ecosystems and weather patterns morph, many of which we cannot predict at this time.

So, I am happy to have been able to visit now, to hear and record some of these sounds that define Palmer Station in January 2009, a place full of rumbling glaciers, fizzy icebergs, clinking popping brash ice, snoring elephant seals, and boisterous Adelies.



My trip home was pretty uneventful. After an extremely calm crossing of the Drake Passage, which I happily managed with no motion-sickness medicine, the Gould arrived safely in Punta Arenas. I spent a few days in Chile decompressing from my travels and visiting a local Magellan Penguin colony (I admit, I was already missing penguins). Then there was a lengthy series of plane flights that finally brought me home to San Francisco, about six weeks after I left. I am happy to report that my equipment survived all the weather, boating, animals, mishandlings, and close calls that I subjected it to, and I never had to turn to my back up gear. I arrived home intact as well.

Now I will begin to create music out of my Antarctic materials and experiences. First I face the fun, but considerable, task of going through the hours and hours of recordings I made, many of which I have not yet had a chance to listen back to. During my island explorations I also collected some rocks, limpet shells, and penguin bones, which I have shipped to myself (these were gathered under permit from the National Science Foundation – normally, removing objects from Antarctica is prohibited). Once they arrive I will be searching out ways to make sounds and musical instruments with them.

Additionally, I shot over 3,500 photos and about 20 hours of high-definition video on my trip. Ultimately, I will be combining all these materials into a series of short musical pieces, accompanied by video and photographs, which will presented in a series of live performances and released as a DVD. I am considering releasing a collection of my best Antarctic field recordings (in unaltered form) as well. I anticipate the final project will be complete some time next fall and will be posting updates as it develops on my blog and Web site.

Thanks for listening.