I envisioned little pink sweatsuits topped with toddling, curly, blonde heads.Īrmed with our big shopvac, a necessary purchase during last summer’s unusually large rains, I drew the nozzle over and over the seeping soup, dumping several tubfuls in the yard. A set of braided rugs, demoted to basement use, reminded me of times past: the chairs they used to lie in front of, protecting the carpet below the toys played with on them – a baby gym set above a colorful, quilted mat, the yellow box with the keys of learning, its pieces scattered over the colored braids of the rugs, now so faded and sippy cups turned on side and never completely spill-proof that left a few staining droplets to be sponged away. I carried them, dripping, across to the outside door and started a trash pile. Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink full#Luckily we had switched most of our things into plastic totes, but, being full of optimism and faith, I continued to mix in some cardboard boxes, now soppy, ready to be pitched, the state of their contents questionable – big mistake. Where should I start to clean up? The narrow path through the stuff piled everywhere overwhelmed me. I really am looking forward to a long shower though.My feet splashed through the couple inches of water that covered our basement concrete. With limited time I am afraid the science wins. We can't use it though because melting icebergs would take fuel but most importantly gathering ice would take time. It seems strange to worry about water when every direction I look there is ice. The laundry on the ship has been closed and we are all taking short showers until we escape back out into the open sea. Every day one of the ship's officers writes the amount of fresh water left on our science notice board: 105 tonnes, 95 tonnes, 85 tonnes down down down. But here's the catch - they can't make fresh water when the ship is in the ice, and that's over two weeks now. But that is not usually a problem as the engineers have a bit of kit that can make fresh water out of sea water. On a two month trip like this one the ship can't possibly carry enough water for us. She has to cope with getting us around, keeping us warm, doing our science, and dealing with our sewage as well as providing us with one of the most basic human needs - water. Our ship can only carry so much fresh water and we are starting to run out. You see our problem is not getting stuck in the ice. And whilst we may get stuck for a few days, I am pretty sure we'll get out to move onto our next study area. It happened to Shackleton, Scott, and Nansen, and it will happen again. The combined effect of the wind and low temperatures growing more sea ice means that the door is slamming shut and we are not doing so well. Now we are trying to move northwards through the pack and the winds have picked up and pushed all the ice in one direction. We came deep into the pack ice last night to do some science, and because the ice was loose with lots of gaps between the floes, we made good progress. We are grinding to a halt a lot at the moment. When it happens there are only two choices, reverse the ship and try and bash through - we call this backing and ramming - or find another route. It is strange, and beautiful, but no-one could call it relaxing.Įvery now and then we get completely stopped by thick ice and the ship shakes to a halt with a deep rumbling noise as the engines try to keep pushing us forwards. If you have ever sat in a vehicle being driven over very rough ground you'll have an idea of what I am talking about. Instead of a gentle roll as the ship makes way, there are constant judders, jerks and crashes as we break onwards through the ice. Being on a ship breaking ice is a very unusual experience even to experienced sailors. Our ship is breaking through the pack ice on the way to our next carefully chosen study site. We are currently working in at 72S 92W, a long way to the west of our usual satellite network, so I hope this message finds its way back.
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