Today Russell, Jake (the newest addition to our team who has arrived to assist with the packing of our equipment and securing the E-Base for the winter), and I went to the morning services at the nearby Russian Orthodox Church that overlooks Bellingshausen Station. Built after the breakup of the USSR, this rustic building was constructed of Sitka pine logs in Siberia, which were then taken apart, shipped thousands of miles down to Bellingshausen, and reassembled, on a rocky spine above both the Chilean and Russian research stations. Scrambling across the mud, sand, and rocks to hike up to the church, it’s something of a Calvary just to reach the door.

Once at the steps of the church, we dipped our feet into the water bucket—a common feature at every building here to help keep the ever-present mud from inside buildings—and made our way into the church, which was actually quite small, considering its grand imposing visage, compared to the rude metal structures of the base buildings with wind-scoured exteriors. As an accommodation to the Antarctic and its formidable winds, large chains ran up the walls, solidly connecting the structure to the foundation. Brass and copper fixtures and candle holders, surrounded by iconographic images of Jesus, Mary, and a pantheon of Russian Saints glowed golden in the light that streamed through the small windows. The three of us, all wearing our damp windshell jackets and pants, stood in front of the small altar as three Russians, part of the support crew, clothed in equally rough clothes, came clomping in with their rubber boots, which they removed in the vestibule, and they joined us as we all stood in stocking feet.

Two priests emerged from the vestry, clad in high-collared gold brocade robes. They began what proved to be a lengthy liturgical call and response, added to by the occasional “Amen” from the Russians. Speaking little Russian beyond “hello,” and “thank you,” much—actually all—of the verbal portion of the service was lost on me, but the mood, as all of us stood in the warm building, breathing in the aroma of the candles, listening to centuries-old chants, couldn’t help but make one contemplative.

As I glimpsed at my Russian neighbors, support crew for the nearby base, all with work-worn hands and windburned faces, I thought about the events of the previous day, when a crewman from a Brazilian ship had fallen overboard. All the research stations from various countries, Russia, Korea, Uruguay, and Chile, had responded to the radio calls from the ship, and helicopters and zodiac boats were scanning the water for the missing person. You don’t survive for long in Antarctic waters (which are about 30 degrees Fahrenheit), and it was soon obvious that this would be a search for a body, but everyone, including those of us at the E-Base, were ready to do anything to assist. Every base here has its own country’s flag flying, but at no time did anyone ask what country the missing person came from—out here in the Antarctic, there are no border considerations—that’s for politicians thousands of miles away.

At the end of the service, the two priests whispered among themselves, and both walked towards us. Had they spotted us as heretics? No, in halting English they indicated that they wanted us to ring the church bell to announce the end of the service. The Russians in the audience nodded in agreement, and the next thing Russell, Jake, and I knew, we were all led up a narrow ladder in a corner of the vestry, and after opening a trapdoor, we found ourselves up in the onion-dome of the steeple, where, high above the Russian base, we each took turns pulling on various ropes, sending peals of enthusiastic, if amateur, melodic clanging over the hills, and beyond, all the way to Maxwell Bay,

Thank you for all of your support and well-wishes. You have encouraged us to stay inspired when things were not always as rosy as we would have liked, and you still remind us on a daily basis just how many people believe in what we are trying to do.

For all of the friends and supporters of the Inspire Antarctic Expedition team members who are avidly following the story as the team is on their way to join us, thank you for your messages and know that the 2008 IAE Expedition site is up and running: http://expedition.2041.com. You can watch your friends and family as they travel through Antarctica and leave comments on their posts on that site.

All the best from the EBGL team here in Bellingshausen and please continue to follow the adventure!

To say that we have become a truly formidable team doesn’t begin to describe our camaraderie, with a simple understanding that we could not have accomplished any task, large or small, as individuals, but that through teamwork we could conquer any obstacle.

It was quite touching to receive the following message on our Message Wall yesterday from an outside perspective, a gentleman who crossed our path here in Bellingshausen last week, when we first arrived.

Ajay, thank you for highlighting the conditions of our endeavor. Your words were received with great humility and both comforted and inspired our small team.

For those of you who may not have seen his message, we’d like to share it with you now:

I was on King George Island when the E-Base team arrived.

I found Marjan uploading videos a day after they had arrived in the middle of night from the hut of Alejo who is himself an Antarctic veteran. When it comes to natural energy, this whole group led by Robert Swan are a major source of power in themselves. I think my laptop got charged just being around these guys, such is the energy they emit.

Next day they started the toil of hauling equipment up the hill in 25 to 30 knot winds and gusts that were replaced by rain and then heavy fog within the next 24 hours. The conditions were simply atrocious and down at the Russian and Chilean bases we wondered if these guys were mad. No heating, no hot water, no light – nothing – in those terrible conditions and they were huddled up there in the elements working as though it was spring time in England.

They continued working systematically and undeterred and soon the E-Base was up and functioning. It might seem easy from here but no video or words can describe the conditions they were up against.

The commitment, bravado and sheer grit of Swan and his team is infectious and inspiring. He himself is made in the mold of original explorers like Scott and Shackleton. It is said about the Antarctic that the cold & distant continent attracts the finest and worst of humans and bares their soul naked once they are there. Swan is the finest of human species committed to preservation and common good and they are all lovable characters.

I hope their adventures are made compulsory reading in schools because their work is the advancement of civilization in the right direction.

On a personal note: It was great to meet with you guys, hope to see you in London soon and talk about how we can take your message to Europe and Russia through our projects. Good luck.

Well what a day. Today was my first attempt of installing solar thermal panels and I know you’re all asking, “Did it go well?”. Let me tell you it went spot on.

Having only ever seen a solar thermal panel attached to my colleague Pete Forest’s roof back in the UK, during a show-around to see how it all works, let’s just say I was not fully confident when the time came that I could successfully install not one, but two panels!

The beauty of this solar thermal technology is that it’s simple. A basic knowledge of plumbing and some hard work, and anyone out there can install solar thermal panels. With the added benefit of my right hand man Benjamin Contreras, one of 2041’s Antarctic contacts, the job seemed to go very easily.

Once the frames were built, the individual solar tubes fit straight into the manifold. I then attached a pump and a few sensors to form a fully working solar thermal system.

The greatest part of the day came once the system was up and running. As we pumped the first bit of water through, we could immediately feel a rise in temperature in the water, and in this very beautiful, sunny, warm and humid weather (HA!), it was a good thing, as I needed a shower.

As an American, the old adage from the Great Depression of the 1930’s, “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without” takes on a certain resonance here in the Antarctic.

At the E-Base and E-Home, everything that can be recycled is recycled, and not in the sense of putting down your second cup of coffee, lightheartedly separating milk cartons from newspapers, leaning out the back door, and tossing them in their respective recycling bins, but recycling in the sense of pulling on rubber boots, bundling up in cold-weather clothing and wandering around Bellingshausen scouring trash, scrap wood, packing materials, etc, and looking at everything with a gimlet eye to determine what can be reused or turned into something useful. There are no handy hardware or camping supply stores in the Antarctic, and if you need something, you have to be creative.

Plastic loading pallets left from a resupply ship to one of the international research stations in the area form the floor of the E-Home, and a rusting pile of decades old angle-iron and steel cable become, with the help of a hacksaw and some physical effort, a full set of tent stakes and guy-line to secure the E-Home against strong storm winds. A futon bed frame with broken legs, thanks to some clever handiwork from Russell, is turned into a wall-mounted desk at the E-Base. Scrapwood of various sizes and lengths form the frame of our solar water heating system.

When one of the wind generator tailfins broke, we weren’t able to call a friendly toll-free telephone number to order a replacement—instead we wired it back together with some (found) steel cable, and soon the generator was aloft and generating electricity again.

Even the cardboard box from the crew of the ship Vavilov that once contained a going-away present of fresh fruit (alas, the fruit is long gone…hello Scurvy!) is now, after being cut down to form a flat surface, serving as the floor mat for our muddy boots as we enter the E-Base.

Making do, Antarctic style…

In January 2004, I started working with a group of aerospace students on a rover project called Polarbot. This tele-operated, GPS enabled, solar powered rover was designed to be operated in polar environments. Four years and four student groups later, the rover was finally tested in King George Island Antarctica while visiting 2041 at the E-Base.

We learned a lot these last few days while testing the rover: from design and development problems to packaging, shipping and logistics issues. Overall it was a great experience for me to see the work of several students finally tested.

I am sincerely thankful to 2041 for hosting me at their E-Base, and helping me ship, assemble and test the rover. And most importantly for providing an opportunity to experience Antarctica.

Guest Post by Satish Chetty – Mentor at Stanford University’s Aerospace Department

Well imagine that happens when you can’t head home and have a nice warm shower and a change of clothes to make you feel instantly better. Imagine not being able to turn on the light at the flick of a switch.

The past few days have been really tough. There has been a constant icy wind and it hasn’t stopped raining. Everything I have is wet and I feel cold to the core. But in order for our Antarctic life to get any easier we’ve had to persevere… to work outside in the driving rain and freezing cold to get our two wind turbines up and running.

It’s simple really. Without our turbines we would have no electricity. That means no light, no heat and no power for our computers to tell you about this truly amazing experience.

Today we finally finished putting up those turbines. We now have a power supply – and even better we have a power supply that is clean, green and 100% renewable. Keeping our commitment to live off renewable energy in Antarctica has been incredibly hard but there is light at the end of the tunnel.

When our batteries are full and the turbines are still generating electricity we convert that extra energy to heat through an electric heater. As I sit here writing I can hear this little heater whirring away – so warming the air around me ever so slightly.

It will never have the same visual effect as burning logs in an open fire on a dark Winter’s night but this little fan heater as brought more warmth to me than the flames of a thousand fires.

It’s difficult to describe how much we have struggled to get to this point but I’m proud to say that, despite everything, we are here in Antarctica living off renewable energy.

Being out here really does make you think about how much we take for granted.

Polar Bot details (PDF, 156KB)

Every time one enters the E-Base there ensues a clumsy ballet as the transition from outside boots to indoor footwear begins. Stomping up the stairs to the vestibule, hopping on one foot while trying to pull off a muddy Sorrel boot, while at the same time not taking a single step into the E-Base, requires a certain skill, and it’s quite tempting just to keep your outside boots on when you simply have to dash in to get a needed tool. Try as we might, mud and dirt always seem to make their way into the E-Base and the E-Home—broom and dustpan duty is one of our many daily chores.

And speaking of mud, our water supply is a snowmelt fed lake about 1/2 mile away from E-Base. Yesterday I accompanied Robert and Kyle as we walked across an alluvial plane to get to the lake with our rolling water containers. Getting to the lake was easy enough, and we refilled our containers and began our way back to the E-Base, where the water would be filtered through our ceramic purification units. I was pulling my water drum through the gravel and sand, and at one point stayed behind at some distance to get a photograph of Rob and Kyle as they made their through a valley and up a hill to the E-Base.

Photos taken, I put my camera back in my canvas mussette bag, grabbed the handle of the water drum, and hurried to catch up with the two. Being aware—not being a complete idiot – that there were muddy areas about, and happy to let others tread before me – I followed in my friends’ footprints. I was paying attention to where I was walking, when suddenly, first one foot broke through the crust skin of the mud, and then the other leg was similarly encased. Within seconds, both of my legs were encased in mud.

Kyle had turned back to see me in this predicament, and came running up to help—he too, became trapped in the mud. This was not as dire as it sounded, as I could have struggled out of my boots and wriggled my way to drier soil, but I knew that I’d have to go back to get my boots—you won’t get far in the Antarctic without boots, and it doesn’t matter if you have to crawl back into the mud to extract them.

One problem was the fact that I was carrying my camera in a decidedly non-waterproof bag, and Kyle, bless his heart, dashed over to lend assistance with his Sony movie camera in one hand, so we were both tying to wriggle our way to freedom with cameras held aloft. Of course, we had the water tank, with its wide footprint, and we could use that to give us some flotation to use to help wrench ourselves from our trap. Suddenly, a Russian, who had been observing us from the shelter of the E-Base, trotted over. Finally, assistance.

With a smile he reached to grab the handle of the water tank. He pulled it free of the mud, and proceeded to walk up the hill, out of sight. Kyle and I looked at each other. What just happened? Our Good Samaritan, no doubt meaning well, just walked off with our lifesaver. And what was the rest of the E-Base team doing? They were chatting a few hundred yards away. Russell asked Rob, “What are Kyle and John doing down the hill there?” Rob glanced in our direction. “I think Johnny is getting some sort of photo and he’s lying down to take it. He does that sort of thing”. And with that, Kyle and I were left to our fate under an uncaring Antarctic sun

Finally, Kyle was able to slooowly pull one foot free, then another, and then he was on firm ground. I tossed him my camera bag, and as I was further away, Kyle tossed me his Pelican camera bag, and I used that as a float to kick my way free of the damn mud. As I lay there like a mud-encased beached elephant seal on the dry sand, I thought this was a moment that should be chronicled. Kyle took my camera and focused it. “Kyle, over there, the sun’s coming from that direction—sheesh, aren’t you a filmmaker?”

That wasn’t the real high point of the day. The real high point was when I had to walk back to the snowmelt lake, take off my pants and boots, and accompanied by a scrub-brush and an ice-cold wind, walk naked into the lake up to my waist to wash off the mud—talk about character building.

What can I say so far it’s just been amazing since I got here, I haven’t stopped smiling. We got here about 11pm Saturday night. We had to do a bit of work emptying the sleeping accommodation building of its contents before we could bed down, and were all properly exhausted when we finally fell asleep.

And it’s just been non-stop since then! We got our first light powered up today (check out the video!) and we are going to tackle the wind turbine tomorrow.

We have some amazing people out here, each bringing their own individual personality to the team. I couldn’t think of any other people I would want to spend my time out here with and I love the fact I have this opportunity to do this.

If I have learnt one think so far, is that it doesn’t matter what you want to do or how hard you think it might be, just go for it and see what happens! That’s what I did and look where I am now: writing this from Antarctica!

Keep watching and speak to you all soon.