Sad goodbyes and sleep deprivation

The time has come for me to start my journey home from Antarctica and I'm now aboard the RRS James Clark Ross sailing to the Falkland Islands.

I boarded on Wednesday morning after a frantic day of packing and many sad goodbyes, armed with one of the most unusual handcrafted leaving presents ever (I won't describe it here but ask me if you are visiting, thank you to those responsible!) However, there was no time to be melancholy, as the safety brief had barely ended before we found ourselves embarked upon a 31 hour water filtering marathon! I was helping some of the Rothera scientists with a short research cruise in Margueritte bay, which entailed non-stop water collecting and sample processing through the afternoon, night and following day. Despite only managing to grab an hours sleep since waking at 7 am on Wednesday morning, I'm pleased to report that I managed to last until 3 am Friday morning before finally falling asleep (in the bar). It sounds terrible, and we were stumbling around like a gang of malcoordinated teenagers gibbering at each other, but it was actually fun, not to mention generating loads of lovely data for everyone, so thanks Paul, Damien and Kate for keeping me up all night!

As I've said before, I've had a fantastic time at Rothera, the place is amazing and I'm leaving many new but much loved friends. I'm heart broken to be leaving and if I find the opportunity I'd love to go back one day.

That's not to say being on the ship is not good though! We are sailing up the peninsula past fairytale mountains caked in snow and crumbling blue ice cliffs. The horizon is broken by massive tabular icebergs, so big I can't really think of anything a similar size - maybe a large block of flats. I sailed with this crew for a month in 2004, so I have familiar faces and friends that I didn't ever expect to see again around me. Hopefully we will get to the Falkland Islands on Wedensday and I will be in the UK next Sunday, but like all logistics in Antarctica I won't believe it until I step of the plane!

I hope all of you are well and enjoying yourselves. I know I'm terrible at keeping in touch, but I really do value you all. This trip has given me the chance to reflect on friendship, and remember many great times with each of you, whether they were last week or ten, fifteen years ago.

Lots of love,

Rosie xx

Co-Pilot Mission to Fossil Bluff

I flew a plane!! At less than 500 feet above sea ice!

On Friday I went on probably my most exciting Antarctic adventure yet - a co-pilot trip to the refuelling depot/winterers' holiday resort/field party transit station of Fossil bluff, Alexander Island, 71°20' South, 68°17' West. The Twin Otter aeroplanes shuttle back and forth between Rothera and the Bluff fairly frequently, and as the pilots are not allowed to go alone, we get to take turns in accompanying them. Our particular mission was to drop off 4 fuel drums and pick up a stranded plumber.

When we took off from Rothera the cloud was low (about 500 feet) so we flew below it to look for whales among the sea ice. After 60 miles or so Geoff, the pilot, offered me a turn at the controls (well the steering bit anyway). It was daunting at first, especially when I could pick out a penguin clearly below me, but brilliant. I must have done reasonably OK, as Geoff left me alone in the cockpit while he went to the back of the plane, saying "the nose will tip up when I'm at the back, so turn this wheel to point it down again".

About half way there, we came up through the cloud and Geoff had some fun flying very close to the peaks of Mount Edgell, Palmer Land. As we sped past rock and curtains of snow, an electronic voice in my headset kept repeating "Terrain! Terrain! Pull up!"

Mount Edgell marked the start of the George VI ice shelf, a totally different environment of flat whiteness, punctured by rocky mountain tops (nunataks). At points the ice buckled and bulged, and was ripped apart by massive, criss-crossing crevasse fields. We landed briefly on the shelf to check on a fuel depot (three very lonely looking drums of Aeroplane fuel) and were overtaken by a second Twin Otter also on its way to Fossil Bluff. We flew the rest of the way in formation, the two planes about 40 foot apart, passing amazing striated cliffs - for those of you that care about geology the sedimentary layers were amazing! After more aerobatics and terrain warnings, we landed at the Bluff, which consists of an unmade snow runway, an awful lot of drums of fuel, and a motley selection of brightly coloured huts nestled on a slope behind an ice moat. Naturally we all stopped for tea and biscuits with the current residents before flying home again. The trip was just fantastic, an amazing thing to have the opportunity to do, you can probably tell I'm still quite overexcited about it!

As well as flying lessons, I've also had a go driving one of the boats during a little science expedition about the Bay (including more tea at lagoon island). The boats are slightly more difficult as you have to avoid the lumps of ice floating about.

The other major excitement on base has been a visit from the American research ship the L.M. Gould last week. The ship calls in every year after it has completed a science cruise, so that we can calibrate some of our oceanographic equipment against theirs. The visit is eagerly anticipated by the males on base, as most of the American scientists are young and female, and as their ship is dry they haven't had a drink for a month...Needless to say there was a good party, Tepid Stan played their last ever gig and we managed to actually finish all the cider!

The environment here is continually changing, which is fascinating. Due to a warm period, lots of snow has melted and crevasses have opened up all over the place; you can even hear the water running under the ice. There are other sounds echoing around us too, grunts of the elephant seals far away on Lagoon Island and a frequent thunder of distant avalanches in the Mountains behind us. The sun now falls to the horizon for an hour or so around midnight, adding sunset golds and pinks to the Antarctic colour palette.

I've less than two weeks left in Rothera now, and I oscillate between wanting to go home and wishing I could stay here forever. In some ways life here is a communal living utopia; there is no money, no crime, almost all sickness and injury is the result of too much booze and people are generally happy, friendly and enthusiastic. I've really loved my time here, but I'm looking forward to getting home as well, and hopefully seeing lots of you then.

I hope everyone is well and having a good time, thank you very much for all your emails and comments,

Lots of love

R x

Twin Otter passing Succession Cliffs, Alexander Island 

Flying down George VI sound en route to Fossil Bluff 

George VI Ice shelf 

Trying flying!