Cider with Rosie

Media fellowship week 1: Countryfile

2009-09-25T03:34:00.000-07:00

On my first day at BBC Countryfile, I followed the directions from Birmingham New Street only to end up at the glossy shop front of Harvey Nic’s. “There must be some mistake” thought I, but no – it turns out that in Birmingham the Beeb lives above a posh new shopping mall.

“But surely there is some kind of mistake” you might ask, “what are you doing a television studio – don’t you do seaweed studies or penguin counting or something?” I’m here because I have been awarded a Media Fellowship by the British Science Association (formerly known as the British Association, or BA, before the confusion with a well known airline got too much).

In what might best be described as ‘work experience for grown-ups’ I am going to spend six weeks working at Countryfile in order to learn how ‘the media’ works. The aim of the Fellowship scheme is to improve understanding and communication between scientists and journalists. The hope is that I’ll return to academia and spread the word that journalists do not all have horns and a trident and are quite nice actually, so long as we talk to them in a sensible language (by which I mean plain English, not jargon, obscenities or pirate).

So far, my duties at Countryfile have included watching a safety video in which Anthea Turner’s hair catches fire, opening nearly a thousand entries to the photo competition (in total there were more than 30,000 entries) and racking my brains for interesting rural story ideas. And yes, I did get to meet John Craven; I went to watch his commentary being dubbed over some underwater footage for a piece on marine nature reserves.

2007-09-11T22:08:00.000-07:00

My PhD acknowledgements

2007-09-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

First and foremost I would like to thank my supervisors Gill Malin, Alex Baker and Tim Jickells for endless insight, interest and allowing me just enough independence. I have always felt very lucky to have such an excellent supervisory team, whose support has been a major factor in making my PhD journey an immensely enjoyable experience.

Many other people have also provided me with invaluable help during my PhD research. I’m grateful to all the ENV technicians at UEA for help in the labs, but in particular, I’d like to thank Liz Rix for efficiency, not to mention the occasional loan of closed toe shoes, Graham Chilvers for patience with the ICP-MS, and Gareth Lee for more than just technical support. I would also like to thank Michael Steinke and Dan Franklin for help with microbiological techniques, Keith Weston for answering numerous questions about elements other than iodine, Manuela Martino for help with voltammetry, and Susan Parry at Imperial College for trying to solve the problems with neutron activation analysis.

When I was eight I had a huge poster of Antarctica on my wall, and I still can’t quite believe I made it there. Twice. So I am deeply indebted to those who made it possible, in particular Martin Miller at BAS. I’m also very grateful to all the people I met while ‘South’ for being both helpful and fun. Of special note but in no particular order are: Captain Jerry Burghan and crew on RRS James Clark Ross, Adele Chuck (then at UEA), Nathan Cunningham (BAS), the Rothera Marine Assistants Paul Mann and Helen Rossetti, Dave Stevens (UEA), Andy Clarke (BAS) and Mags Wallace (BAS). I am also very grateful to NERC for funding the whole escapade and to UK SOLAS and the US NSF and NOAH for flying me to a few warmer spots as well.

Throughout this PhD I’ve been entertained and supported by too many friends to name, so to the rabble of housemates, hedonists, intellectuals, yogis, Antarctic heroes, travelling companions, fellow PhD students, new pals and long losts: thank you all for being you, and making me, me. Individual thanks must go to Claire Hughes though, who has not only become a great friend, legendary drinking buddy, running partner, and fellow iodine person, but has been instrumental in getting me some fantastic opportunities and provided me with a great deal of help and advice from the very start.

I’d also like to thank my sisters Laura and Emma for providing a soap opera back drop to the past four years; one of the great things about this PhD was being able to live in the same city as them. To Casey Ryan, who gave me a lot of support in the first few years, I’d like to say thank you and sorry. Finally, the biggest acknowledgement of all must go to my Mum, Dad and step-Dad Paul, without whose love, help, guidance and friendship I would never have got so far.

My PhD abstract, or what I've been up to for the past four years...

2007-09-11T21:56:00.000-07:00

The majority of iodine in seawater takes the form of iodate (IO3-), but in surface waters significant quantities of thermodynamically unstable iodide (I-) are observed and have been attributed to biological activity. In this thesis, experimental investigations of the influence of marine algae upon the reduction of iodate to iodide are presented alongside spatial and temporal surveys of dissolved inorganic iodine speciation in the Southern Ocean.

Laboratory incubations of microalgae showed the ability to reduce iodate to iodide was highly variable with algal species and more pronounced in two cold-water strains studied than three temperate strains. In the cold-water cultures 50 to 100% of the consumed iodate was converted to some other form, possibly dissolved organic iodine (DOI). A preliminary investigation into the measurement of DOI by ICP-MS was conducted. Attempts were also made to measure
particulate iodine: the molar I/C ratio in a diatom species was found to be < 5 x 10-5. In tidal pools, the brown macroalgae Fucus serratus appeared to facilitate light independent reduction of iodate to iodide, and to release stored iodide, while green macroalga of the genus Ulva did neither. Incubation experiments suggested four other macroalgae also produce iodide.

In the Scotia Sea and Drake Passage, surface iodide was typically very low, at 10 to 20 nM. Horizontal gradients in iodide distribution did not appear to be related to nutrient or chlorophyll a concentrations and were best explained in terms of physical oceanographic features. Subsurface iodide maxima associated with temperature minima were observed. Iodide levels were similarly low (< 10 nM) during winter and spring at Marguerite Bay, Antarctica, but gradually increased during the intense summer algal blooms to reach up to 60 nM. Iodide accumulation was strongly correlated with biological productivity. Field experiments also demonstrated the photochemical reduction of iodate to iodide.

That New Scientist competition entry...

2006-12-27T03:42:00.000-08:00

In case you care to read it, I've posted my entry from the New Scientist 2006 essay competition below. It is about the research I was doing in Antarctica last year.

R x

An elemental enigma: unravelling the iodine cycle in Antarctica

2006-12-27T03:38:00.000-08:00

The first time I went seawater sampling at Marguerite Bay, a penguin jumped clean out of the ice strewn waters and landed in our small orange inflatable. This was the Antarctic after all. Unperturbed by our laughter, it peered curiously around, presumably wondering what on earth we were doing lowering a bundle of sensors 500 meters down into the chilly depths. And well it might ask.

We were there to investigate the dramatic algal bloom that turns the waters of Marguerite Bay to a dense soup every summer. Here, on the coast of the great white continent, all the necessary nutrients are present for microscopic marine algae to thrive. As the spring dawn melts the sea’s lid of ice, daylight floods into the surface waters and a lush marine jungle flourishes. The water turns green as tiny plants happily photosynthesise away, changing the chemistry of the surrounding water as they do so.

My particular role was to find out how this slimy explosion of algal life changes the iodine in water. Now, while I admit to finding the chemical quirks of this charismatic element fascinating, I appreciate that the rest of the world might ask ‘why should we care?’

Firstly, iodine is an essential part of our diet – deficiency leads to goitre, stillbirths and impaired mental function. Insufficient iodine intake remains a major public health problem in many countries, and shockingly, is the number one cause of preventable brain damage in children1.

Secondly, iodine is an important player in the complex chemical reactions that occur in marine air. As a halogen, it is capable of destroying ozone in the swirling masses of the lower atmosphere, which in turn affects the ability of the air to cleanse itself of greenhouse gases. Iodine atoms can also cluster together, forming tiny seeds on which clouds can form. Because of these processes, the amount of iodine in the air can ultimately impact on the Earth’s climate.

In both cases, the iodine originates from the sea. Iodine gases escape from the surface of the ocean to join the chemical dance in the air, and some is blown onto land and incorporated into the terrestrial food chain. The mechanism of sea-air transfer, and the way this might be affected by climate change, remains a crucial missing link in our understanding of the iodine cycle. And here we open a Pandora’s box of shifting chemical forms and intimate relationships with phytoplankton.

Most of the iodine in seawater combines with oxygen to form iodate, enjoying a happy, stable, and thermodynamically predictable relationship. However, in the brightly lit gardens of the surface ocean, up to half of the iodine goes it alone, as the negatively charged iodide ion (analogous to chloride in common salt). Iodide is unstable, and not expected to form in seawater, so how did it get there? And how do these inorganic forms get converted to the volatile compounds that can cross the air-sea boundary?

When the going gets tough, marine chemists like to invoke a little biology to explain things. Marine algae have been shown to produce iodine-containing gases2, and tantalizing evidence suggests that they might also be to blame for the presence of iodide in surface waters.

And this is where I come in, bobbing about on a boat at 67 degrees south, fending off icebergs and penguins, and trying to demonstrate a link between iodide and algae. Alongside me is Dr Claire Hughes, looking at the production of iodine-containing gases during the algal bloom. Antarctica offers unique insights on the iodine cycle because, in the chilly waters of the South iodide levels are exceptionally low, but the atmospheric iodine signal is strong.

Back home comes the tricky bit - unraveling the interplay of biology, light and moving water masses. In the rather more mundane surroundings of the laboratory, we try to coerce jars of algae to reveal the secrets of their relationship with iodine. The picture that is slowly emerging is complex, and rarely what we expect, but one day I hope to fit my own little piece into the jigsaw that is the iodine cycle.

1. World Health Organisation Global Database on Iodine Deficiency (2004) Report: Iodine Status Worldwide, Geneva.

2. e.g. Manley & de la Cuesta (1997) Limnol. Oceanogr. 42, 142-147.

Happy Christmas and New Year!!

2006-12-24T11:19:00.000-08:00

Hi everyone,

Just a quick message to wish you all a very happy Christmas/winter solstice (OK I know that was a few days ago...)/whatever floats your boat this time of year. I hope the New Year brings you all lots of happiness! Thanks so much to everyone who has sent a card, I'm afraid I have yet again failed to send any this year, so don't be offended you don't have one. I'd like to pretend this was due to my tree hugging conscience, but really its just organisational failure.

My Hawaii and California photos are finally up on the web, follow the links on the right. I know most of you prefer pictures to words so I won't say any more about it except that, for those that I haven't told, Dave and I got mugged for our crisps by a bear!

So that's it, 2006 nearly done. Have a fantastic time over the New Year, I hope to see you all in 2007!!!!

Lots of love

R xxx

2006-11-03T08:55:00.000-08:00

I'm sure we left the car here somewhere...Thanks to Anouk for the following photos of Hawaii.

2006-11-03T08:54:00.000-08:00

Damn, I knew I shouldn't have left the ring at home...

2006-11-03T08:51:00.000-08:00

Frodo and Sam, sorry - Anouk and Rosie, crossing the volcanic wasteland

2006-11-03T08:49:00.000-08:00

After the Earthquake - the only trouble we had was some closed roads

2006-11-03T08:47:00.000-08:00

Waikiki beach, from our hotel :-)

DISCO inferno

2006-11-02T12:49:00.001-08:00

Aloha!

In case you've been fretting about me gadding about the world courtesy of the good British tax payer, this post describes a jolly paid for by a new benefactor - the American government.

On 7th October I flew to Honolulu, Hawaii, for DISCO XX, a meeting less groovily also known as the twentieth Disertations Symposium in Chemical Oceanography. For those of you that care about such things (or physical oceanography - there is a sister meeting called PODS) I would totally recommend it. Contrary to tales of high competition and American narcissism, there were only about 60 applicants for 25 places, and half the delegates were from outside the US. We were very well looked after, with a swish hotel on kitsch Waikiki Beach and a generous daily allowance. During the extremely taxing group activity day we went to contemplate the scarily big waves on Oahu's North shore and picnic on papaya.

Not one to turn down a free holiday, I took the opportunity to spend an extra week on the Big Island of Hawaii. I had such a good time I even felt the earth move, thanks to a 6.6 earthquake one morning. The most fun I've had in a while... ;-)

We started in the rainforested timewarp of Puna in the South, where we shared a black sand beach with the local hippies. Then we headed, via the cockroach-infested southernmost motel in the USA, to the more popular west coast to snorkel with sea turtles and fat tourists. Rounding the northern tip of the Island, we came to to a beautiful series of steep green valleys, sliced open by towering sea cliffs.

Finally, we spent some time at Kilauea - the volcano. With its barren steaming craters, billowing sulpurous vents and acres of black lava flows engulfing the forest, this place beats even Willesden Junction as a contender for Mordor. We hiked as close to the active erruption as you can, where a massive plume of acid and steam marks the entry of the molten rock to the sea, but (slightly disappointingly) you cannot currently see glowing red 'rivers of fire'.

I was travelling with Anouk and Sandy, whom I met at the DISCO meeting, and I could not have wished for better companions - thanks guys! Anouk has put some photos on the web here, and I'll put my own efforts up as soon I get my films developed.

Prior to jetting west, other notable events have included discovering anarchism, my funding running out and meeting Johnny Ball (you know - Zoe's Dad). I cultivated my media whore skills further by working in the press centre at the BA Festival of Science (some of the articles here are mine) and punished my liver at the carnage that was the Challenger Conference for Marine Science in Oban. Those of you that were at the latter - hope you've all recovered by now.

So, thanks for reading so far, I'm off to look for a job at the University of Hawaii... Part II of my American adventures, in which I survive bears, Berkeley and an unfeasibly large pizza, will follow soon.

I hope you're all well, look after yourselves and keep in touch (you could even post a comment!).

Lots of love

R x

2006-08-04T04:37:00.000-07:00

Claudia, Liles and me at DrOSTOCK, follow the link on right for more photos...

2006-08-04T04:35:00.000-07:00

Stumbling over the finish line in a disppointing time - it was just way too hot for this sort of madness...

2006-08-04T04:32:00.000-07:00

Norwich half marathon, 11th June 2006: Antarctic heroes prepare to run 13.1 miles under the hot English sun

All quiet on the eastern front...

2006-07-17T09:08:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone,

As usual I'm in the red when it comes to owing people emails, so i'm afraid I've been reduced to a blog post. Apologies, i'll try to get in touch with you all individually soon. Those of you that already know what I'm up to should probably skip straight to the photos!

It has been a long time since I last wrote, but life back in Norfolk hasn't been, err, quite as exciting as the Antarctic...

To aleviate this paucity of excitment, and reintroduce some mayhem, my housemate Dave and I held a party, which we called DrOSTOCK. As it was to mark Dave's leaving for a job in California, we tried to give it an American theme. It went something like this....Once upon a time, deep in the Norfolk fens the sun shone on a camping barn, and a mountain of beer mysteriously appeared. Captain America and Monika Lewinski welcomed their 80+ guests and proceeded to get, in the words of a lurching hillbilly who claimed to be someone's Dad, "absolutely f**king bladdered". Everyone had lots of fun going wild in the country, dancing, drinking and burning things. By the next morning (OK mid-afternoon...) the mountain of beer had vanished again, the hungover survivors had dragged themselves away, and peace was restored...to see what the hell i'm going on about, have a look at the photos (linked right) and the videos (beware these take about ten mins to download with broadband though!).

Aside from DrOSTOCK it has been a chaotic few months, with a few big changes and emotional traumas, along with quite a bit of drinking, running, yoga and drinking. As well as the departure of my fantastic housemate Dave (miss you mate!) to California, I'm very sad to say that I've broken up with my boyfriend Casey and so I won't be moving to Edinburgh anymore. Instead I'm staying in Norwich, the end of the third year of my PhD is drawing frighteningly close but is not encouraging me to write faster, yet...The general plan is to try and get a research job once I'm done, although I'm still interested in science writing too. A few exciting career things have happened - I got my first paper accepted for publication (in Marine Chemistry if you care), I'm off to Hawaii for a meeting in October, and I've just found out that I'm a runner up in a New Scientist essay competition! So I can't really complain about things!

Anyway, I'm sure that's more than most of you want to read already!! I hope all of you are all well and happy, and to hear from you or see each of you soon.

Have a good time all the time!!

Love

R x

Sad goodbyes and sleep deprivation

2006-02-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-04T12:24:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-04T12:20:00.000-08:00

Twin Otter passing Succession Cliffs, Alexander Island

2006-02-04T12:19:00.000-08:00

Flying down George VI sound en route to Fossil Bluff

2006-02-04T12:18:00.000-08:00

George VI Ice shelf

2006-02-04T12:00:00.000-08:00

Trying flying!

2006-01-21T05:06:00.000-08:00

Failing to be impressed by a cool iceberg...

2006-01-21T05:02:00.000-08:00

Elephant seals

Messing around in boats is what we like best...

2006-01-19T13:27:00.000-08:00

Hello folks...Hope you are all well and having fun.

Since my last post things have been relatively quiet, and lots of science has been getting done. I've been out sampling in the bay quite a few times, once with a group of VIPs (including the director of NERC) in tow. Also, as I've alerted the UK people, the BBC have been down here filming, although I'm afraid I'm not personally featured. For a media friendly take on Rothera life you can read the BBC journalist's diary on http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/4611712.stm You can also download various news reports from here, including the Rothera boys and girls faking it (a CTD cast) on camera and Dr Claire Hughes talking about the sea temperature rise (not our area of research). I would recommend a pinch of salt to be taken with them; despite the inference to the contrary, and as anyone who has seen 'The Day After Tomorrow' should know, scientists do not generally wander down crevasses to look for ancient gases in the icicles. However, the overall science seems to be about right.

Continuing the multi-media theme of this blog, if you remember the 'penguin in the boat' incident, I've put a short film clip of it up on the web - click on the link on the right, and it should open (works in Quicktime and Windows media player at least) although may take a little time to download. I'm doing the winching.

On Saturday I went on a recreational boat tour of the Bay. The sky was a low, flat ceiling of grey cloud, truncating the mountains on all sides, and closing us into a narrow plane between sea and sky. Aside from the blue bergs the landscape was gently monochrome. The sea itself was beautifully still, a quicksilver lake perfectly reflecting the icebergs and the elegant curtains of icicles hanging from their edges. After some gratuitous iceberg ogling, penguin spotting and Leopard seal watching, we landed at Lagoon Island which is about 13 km from base, and currently home to an expedition of adolescent elephant seals. The seals lay around totally indifferent to us; like teenagers they could barely be bothered to lift their heads to look at their visitors but did occasionally yawn, scratch with a flipper or snort through their snot encrusted nostrils. Mostly, however, they were just huge (nearly 3 m long and fat) sleeping beasts. In the style of true Brits, once we were exhausted with photo taking, we all then had tea in the small hut that has been on the island for as long as anyone can remember.

Life in Rothera can sometimes seem to be in a narrow plane too, as we settle into the post New Year routine. I'm never bored, and I have had loads of fun and unique experiences, but there is a limit to the variety of activities on offer! At the moment base is very busy, with nearly 100 people resident, and it seems everyday new people appear and others leave, which can be a bit disconcerting as you suddenly find yourself surrounded by people you don't know.

The emphasis has swung from cider to science now (with occasional exceptions), and as it has been going well I have managed to extend my stay until mid February and expect to be back in the UK by the end of Feb. I look forward to seeing lots of you then, and in the year to come. Hope that you are all well and having lots of fun,

love

R xx

2006-01-08T12:57:00.000-08:00

Jumarring out of the crevasse

2006-01-08T12:55:00.000-08:00

The sea and a strange blue light

2006-01-08T12:54:00.000-08:00

New crew member...the penguin is real

New Year, New Science

2006-01-07T11:57:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year from Rothera! I hope you are all well.

So far, 2006 in Antarctica has been flying by in a rush of beer, boats, ice and unusually, lots of science.

Rothera brought in the New Year with a concert in the sledge store, played by the base's very own band Tepid Stan and their unnamed support. Most of the band are winterers who only learnt to play their instruments (stop sniggering at the back!) during the long dark Antarctic winter, but the quality of rock-punk-postpunk-guitarledindierock was extremely good and we all did lots of jumping around and sweated our beer out. New Years Day was beautiful and so, as is often the case on Sundays, I went skiing then lounged around on the slope (we call it Vals) with a beer as snowboarders flew past.

The New Year really got started on Monday when Claire and I hit the lab to do our first seawater sampling and photochemistry experiments. I went out into the bay on the little orange rib called Discovery to help with the first depth profile CTD and Niskin casts on Wednesday. The water here is a perfectly flat steely mirror, complete with beautiful reflections of the surrounding mountains and ice cliffs. It is littered with strangely sculpted icebergs that range in size from shoe box to house (plus garden) and have a pale electric blue glow above the water but turn greener like Cambridge blue beneath it. While collecting our water, we were suprised and amused by a new Adelie penguin crew member who popped out of the water and made itself at home on our boat. We also saw the spout and fin of a Minke whale as it passed by.

On Thursday night, Claire and I persuaded Soup, currently the only field assistant on base, to take us to a crevasse on Stork ridge. I found myself abseilling through a small hole in the snow into an icy cavern, about 30 to 40 m deep and filled with slowly dripping icicles. We stood at the bottom of this immense crack in the glacier, against a back wall of completely clear ice, and looked around in awe - it was really an amazing space. Blue light filtered in to light up arches and stalactites of ice stretching away in both directions, asking to be explored. It was still and quiet, punctutaed only by dripping water, and had a timeless and ethereal feel, something like a natural cathedral. The climb back up the ropes to get out was definitely worth it.

As I've heard its been rather chilly at home, I thought I'd say a little about the weather here. It is not as cold as many of you imagine; I think temperatures are typically between -3 and +3 degrees Centigrade and it is not uncommon to see the more hardened inhabitants wandering around or even skiing in shorts and t-shirt, although I tend to wear a coat outside. The weather changes from day to day, when it is windy it feels cold, but sometimes the sky is clear blue and the sun feels very warm (for some unfathomable reason these are known as 'dingle days' in BAS speak).

Incase you want to know more about day to day life at Rothera, I've added a link to Keith Weston's blog. Keith is another UEA scientist working down here, and his blog is primarily for school children, but has lots of pictures of our buildings, people, vehicles, tag boards, etc. Look in the December archives for a photo tour of base.

Well I think that's it for now. Apologies for the lack of individual emails recently, I will try and reply to you all soon. As ever, thinking of you all and hope 2006 has started well for you.

Lots of love

R x

2006-01-07T11:50:00.000-08:00

Tepid Stan New Year gig

2006-01-07T11:47:00.000-08:00

celebrating Christmas...

2005-12-30T10:49:00.000-08:00

Running scared

2005-12-30T10:48:00.000-08:00

The annual Rothera 10 k run

White Christmas

2005-12-27T14:56:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone had a great Christmas/winter solstice/holiday, whatever you were doing and wherever you are. Down in the Antarctic I'm still recovering from the Rothera Christmas carnage...

Festivities here kicked off with the notorious Rothera 10 km run, which was carefully arranged to take place during the windiest part of Christmas Eve. I survived the 27 knot headwind by slipstreaming someone dressed as a penguin when running into it. Despite the race being only my fourth run in the whole of 2005, I managed to finish 2nd fastest girl (out of a grand total of 5) with a time of 51.29 minutes. Naturally I celebrated this with a few ciders.

On Christmas Day we headed up the hill for a spot of merry festive skiing then returned to a traditional turkey dinner (huge thanks to our cook Izzy), complete with party poppers and crackers, and another party in the bar. All in all it was a lovely, stress free day and I was very happy to be celebrating it with new friends here in this fantastic place.

The sea ice finally blew out on Boxing day, so this week we have actually been able to start sampling properly. The voltammeter (my vile analytical instrument) even managed to work for a day before throwing a hissy fit, but that's a problem I'm leaving till next week now, because it's nearly time for the New Years party....

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL!!!

I hope you are all well, and wish you all the best for 2006, have a fantastic year!

lots of love

R x

2005-12-22T04:57:00.000-08:00

Watching the JCR come in

Light relief

2005-12-21T05:39:00.000-08:00

Well, just after my last post, the RRS James Clark Ross appeared on the horizon bravely pushing her way through the sea ice. She arrived on Saturday afternoon, watched eagererly by pretty much everyone on base, and since then things have been a turmoil of new arrivals, cargo unloading and long nights in a new bar trying a novel drink called lager beer.

For some reason I'm not allowed to drive a JCB, and so was spared the 6am starts that the wharf team have had for the past few days, but I have done a fair amount of lumping around seemingly inexhaustable food supplies for the relief effort. Down in the lab it's been like Christmas as we unwrap crates of the kind of useful little bits and pieces (like magnetic flea removers) that scientists get excited about: hopefully my kit will turn up soon and I will be able to actually start work!

Today the ship departed again, seranaded by the base plumber spanna on the saxophone as she pulled away from the wharf. It was fun being back on the JCR, and having some new faces to talk to, but I must admit to looking forward to a few quiet days of base life before facing Christmas at Rothera.

As ever, hope you are all well and would love to hear from you,

R x

2005-12-21T05:30:00.000-08:00

DASH flying over sea ice - I was in it at the time

2005-12-18T12:31:00.000-08:00

The view from my office window

2005-12-18T12:23:00.000-08:00

The RRS James Clark Ross viewed from the DASH-7

Danger low flying aircraft!

2005-12-17T07:21:00.000-08:00

In a situation all too familiar from the cruise I did last year, the research ship the James Clark Ross is struggling through sea ice just tens of km away from base. I was lucky enough to get a place on a sea ice reconaissance flight/gratutious antarctic tourist outing on Thursday, and so found myself flying 15 m (yes really) above the ice at 210 mph. The seals basking on the ice looked closer than they did from the deck of the ship last year, though they didn't seem very suprised by the enormous red DASH-7 bird flying over them. On the way back we flew between the sharp snowy peaks of the island so close that you could see into the crevasses. It was great. ETAs for the ship, and its vital cargo of science kit and beer, have been varying widely and the subject of a sweepstake down at the Bonner lab (the prize is 11 cans of cider).

Aside from that excitment, I'm progressing well with my attempt to become the worlds slowest skier, and have started my training (well done one run, which makes two so far in 2005) for the Rothera 10 km race (5 laps round the runway of overexaggerated doom on Christmas eve). And on Thursday night, to mark a few peoples departure from base, we actually managed to drink the bar dry of cider...

Thats all for now folks, hope you're all well,

R x

2005-12-17T07:17:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering what the inside of a crevasse looked like...Thanks to Tim Burton for the lovely photo.

2005-12-12T12:26:00.000-08:00

Reptile Ridge, the lower black dot is me...

2005-12-12T12:20:00.000-08:00

jumaring out of crevasse

2005-12-12T12:18:00.000-08:00

home sweet home: Rothera base from Reptile Ridge

Crampon my style

2005-12-10T07:35:00.000-08:00

The wheels of science grind very slowly as we wait for the sea ice to go and the ship to arrive with our analytical equipment and something other than cider to drink. In the meantime, I've managed several evenings of skiing and another mountaineering trip and can now boast reasonably competent snowplough turns and an ability to tie myself onto the end of a rope with knots that won't come undone...Being towed back down the glacier on skis hanging off the back of a skidoo remains beyond my ability or nerve though, as i found out painfully last Monday - it's the point when you start overtaking the skidoo that gets really scary! On Friday I went for a climb up reptile ridge and learnt how useful crampons are for walking up steep snow cliffs and how annoying they are for scrambling across rock, plus how not to fall in the Bergschrund. Yesterday (Sunday) a small party of hardcore hangover survivors from the mess that was Saturday night made it out skiing; it was a beautiful day and very warm so I am now sporting a sunburnt forehead because I didn't wear my hat. Today though, there is a blizzard, and the wrong type of snow means the telephone/internet link has been down. Snow in Antarctica! Would you believe it..?

Hope you are all well, and thank you to all those who replied to my last email - if you haven't heard from me yet you will do soon.

R x

2005-12-08T07:54:00.000-08:00

Rosie in Antarctica

Rosie does Rothera

2005-12-01T12:27:00.000-08:00

Hello!!

I finally made it to Rothera on 25th November, after a four day journey via the iron quarry that is Ascension Island airport, and the windswept collection of scout huts that is Stanley (Falkland Islands). The flight from the Falklands to base took 5 hours and the views of sea ice and snow covered mountain islands were fantastic.

Rothera is the British Antarctic Survey's largest base, located on Adelaide Island on the Antarctic Peninsula, and home to up to 120 people during the busy summer season. The base is a collection of prefabricated buildings, a dock and a runway, sat on a little spit of land that emerges into the sea from under a glacier. At the moment sea ice still grips the base, holding steady a now familiar landscape of icebergs, decorated with the occasional penguin or seal. Rising up behind the base is the glacier, scarred by a line of skiddoo tracks leading to our very own ski slope, and behind that the jagged rocks of Reptile Ridge and the mountains beyond. The view in all directions is majestic. We are surrounded by imposing black mountains covered in glaciers rising out of the sea; the air is so clear you can see for miles (which makes estimating distance very hard as things appear much closer than they are).

Since getting here I've been doing lots of mountaineering training, camped out for the night BAS style, abseiled into a crevasse and started learning to ski. Isn't a job in science great? Basically I'm having a great time! Going in the crevasse has been the best thing so far, it was massive and full of huge icicles twisted around on themselves. As I swung around on the end of my rope, breaking off spikes of ice nearly a metre long and sending them crashing down, I felt like I was a clumsy intruder in a fairy story.

The only downside is that all the booze has run out apart from Cider, of which there is loads but I'm doing my best to get through it...

More soon. Hope you are all well.

Welcome to Rosie's blog!

2005-09-24T14:31:00.000-07:00

As you're at this page, presumably you're a friend (or enemy) and you know who I am and what I do already...

For those of you a little confused about what I'm up to these days (a common problem, ask my Mum), I'm about to start the third year of my PhD in chemical oceanography. The terrifying working title of this misguided endeavour is 'Marine Algal Iodine Metabolism' but that has far too many long words, so I'm considering 'Seaweed Studies, Cold places and How to Spin on your Office Chair' as an alternative. Follow the link to my research group webpages if you want to know more.

Over the past year or so I've been extremely lucky in having some great travel opportunities. I've put a link to photos from my 2004 China trip and hopefully more will be going up soon...

All being well I'm off South to Antarctica again in November for a summer of 24 hour daylight. The main reason for creating this blog is to keep you posted on what I'm up to then, so I only have to write the 'what I did on my holidays' stuff once, and can keep emails for personal conversations.

Ocassionally I live in Norwich. And not with my sisters anymore, that was just too much madness.