Little flying snowstorms

LOCATION: 62 degrees in latitude; 57 degrees in longitude; Sailing at 11 knots.

WE WOKE this morning to a thick fog indicating that overnight we had crossed the Antarctic Convergence.

An oceanographic border, the Convergence marks the vast exchange of north-flowing Antarctic bottom waters with deep-sea waters from the North Atlantic, Pacific and Indian oceans.

Here, in the planet’s largest upwelling ocean system, the temperature of the sea drops sharply with the influx of nutrient-rich northern currents that have been in circulation for hundred of years.

From expedition leader Dan Zwartz’s wake-up call carried through the intercom to our snug bunks, and to the far reach of fog-enshrouded decks, we also learnt that the Professor had crossed the 60 degrees south and into the Antarctic political zone.

The stronger winds have bought with them many more albatross and cape petrels – the "little flying snowstorms" Lynn spoke endearingly of in her lecture yesterday for the scattering of bright white feathering across their wingspan.

I heard word of penguins and seals several hours before spotting a whiskery face on my fourth round of the decks after a lunch of salmon shish kebabs, sweet potato chips and salad (this wouldn’t be a diary without mention of the menu). These wide-legged walks, and a few push-ups and sit-ups on the floor between desk and bunks, I like to call "Antarctaerobics". We are all looking forward to stretching our legs on islands as yet unseen.

Tonight we expect to sight the shores of the South Shetland Islands on our way to the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula and tomorrow, weather forbidding, will make landfall on the continent at Brown Bluff, a cliff of volcanic rock between two glaciers.

Aliens in Antarctica

With a title suggestive of a B-grade movie, Aliens in Antarctica is the name of an International Polar Year research project that aims to ascertain the extent to which propagules - seeds, spores and sand among other life-forms alien to this region - hitch a life on the clothes, tread and gear of visitors.

Dan Zwartz gave us an overview of the project this morning, and then handed out forms to survey our movements among national parks, botanic gardens, alpine regions and other areas prior to this trip.

Had I thought about it earlier I would have shaken things out thoroughly, and was glad to contribute to the data-collection by sucking the aliens from my gear into a sterile nylon sock fitted over the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner. This was then labelled and sealed in a brown paper bag. For the effort I was given a cool and covetable "Aliens in Antarctica" sticker.

Dan was quite chuffed with the grass-seeds and sand collected from the velcro straps of my sandals (and I think I even spotted a little insect wing among the lint and cat hair). The hooks and fuzz of velcro – an undeniably useful invention – hold seeds so fast that the Australian Antarctic group now make the considerable effort to manufacture velcro-free gear.

The project aims to measure the actual pressure of propagules on the Antarctic ecosystem, and also to collect scientific data to support the development of effective and relevant environmental management strategies.

Dan says that there are now persistent foreign species at several research bases, and that the biggest danger lies in the introduction of readily-adaptable species from the Arctic regions. Literally poles apart, these species are transferred in the pockets of visitors to the Arctic – tourists and scientists whose love of the polar regions then drive them south with the same boots, camera bags, and gloves.

Your contaminated correspondent,
Stephanie