A Journey to the Summit of Law Dome
The weather report said snow showers easing in the late afternoon, but the blizzard whipped around us still, engulfing our traverse as we inched no closer across the incessant sastrugi.
Up, down, side to side we bumped and crawled in our Haggs unable to see anything but the piercing swirling snow in a blur of whites and grey, lashing at our windscreen. Stay on the line, pray that the vehicle Lowrance GPS unit dictating our route, is true and does not fail us now so far from station, so deep into Antarctic land. One party cross checked the travel on a handheld GPS unit, meticulously mapping each waypoint, whilst the other referenced the Lat and Long in Avenza in the grey space beyond the station mapping software. We crawled on.
Towing 650 litres of fuel (200L of ATK and 450L of 50/50 blended ATK and SAB), a fuel pump, generators, and all kinds of mechanical spares imaginable behind one Hagg and behind the other, our accommodation in the form of a small caravan on a sled with ski tracks affectionately known as ‘The Silver Chalet’. Our Chalet was equipped with power and heating, bunk beds and a small cooking area and we were a far cry from the hardships of what Shackleton’s party endured when the Endeavour was crushed in the ice pack. During Shackleton’s 2-year ordeal back in early 19th century, the men were forced to live on floating ice floes for months and months bedding down in reindeer sleeping bags under canvas tents with scant to warm them but their woollen clothes on their backs and the blubber of seals in their bellies.
In contrast packed into their stores, our party of four had home cooked meals to be reheated on gas burners under electric lights in front of heaters and with a door completely shut sealing out the ever pounding and whistling storm. Yet still, our toilet bucket was outside. In a canvas tent in the blizzard. To poo in a bag in a bucket doing ones best to avoid frostbitten nether regions, is one challenge unchanged from 1915 to 2025. Antarctica can still bite.
Our purpose was to reach the summit of Law Dome. A land massif some 1395m high, 119km from station. Law Dome decided much of our daily routine here at Casey. She was an elusive name that brought winds from the East and lay far outside our station operating area. She was what is known as ‘deep field ‘and a mini traverse party was needed to penetrate her wilderness in order to maintain a Bureau of Meteorology (BoM) automated weather station (AWS). Our own South Pole.
We failed to reach the summit on Day 1 despite 14 hours of travel. The next day dawned bright and still and the vast landscape was breathtaking. As was the cold. Minus 27 and approx. 7-8Knots of wind we packed away in a windchill of minus 37 degrees.
Under no circumstances can you remove your gloves and fiddly tasks like undoing the bolts to remove the Chalet stairs, or trying to lash down equipment with ropes or straps whilst getting gloves caught again and again, proved tedious and consistent annoyances. But one learns to be slow and patient in the harsh Antarctic winter and to work with our backs automatically turned to the wind. And with our faces angled in certain manner so as not to breathe and fog or freeze your goggles under the double layers of face coverings. The challenges of simple tasks make one appreciate the warmth and comfort of the Red Shed home back at Casey.
But forwards we went to the summit and to repair our AWS. On arrival the work proved straight forward and easy. Brian our BoM Technician and Imogen our BoM Weather Observer set about securing a ladder and knocked the ice from the solar panel and battery pack before exchanging it for a new one. And then they removed the weather pack unit and installed the new one high up on the mast. The AWS records the temperature, humidity, barometric pressure, the windspeed and direction, GPS location and battery voltage.
Meanwhile Dan our Diesel Mechanic and myself, Field Training Office (FTO) Liz, set about refuelling our vehicles. Our fuel pump had shot out sparks and given up the ghost the day before so all fuel had to be double handled. Hand pumped from tank on the sled into 20Ltr jerry cans then poured into the tanks on the back of the Haggs. By the end, poor Dan was rather soaked in fuel and forced to abandon his favourite jacket in order to remove the stench from offending the whole party.
All in all, the work up there was less than 4-hours and the team decided to make use of the daylight and the calm conditions and travel a few hours back down the mighty D-line. We made camp that night at the Antarctic circle at D-23 after witnessing a meteor fall slowly from the sky. A brilliant ball of energy with a small flame tracking slowly down and across the near horizon. A signal? A beacon? An omen? A wish? Who knows but a beautiful sight to have seen. We celebrated Brian’s 60th birthday with party hats and candles in cake and I filled us in with the latest chapter of Shackleton’s epic journey after hours of audiobook listening.
Our last day was equally long, slow and arduous, yet impossibly beautiful with sundogs in the sky and strange shades of differing light across the horizons and untold shapes of glistening snow and patterns and ridges in the wind torn sastrugi.
There is something in the vast lonely cold, and between the layers of whites that creeps into our hearts. This powerful landscape gnaws it way into your soul penetrating until you are at home with it. And whether you acknowledge the fact or not, you are in love with Antarctica.
Liz Charlton
Winter FTO, Casey Station
