On the Ice

My uncle used to be stationed at McMurdo down in Antarctica.  He loved it.  I think part of why he loved it is because while he was essentially on-duty for 6 months straight (give or take), he was also granted shore leave for obscene amounts of time (which he spent in NZ and Santa Barbara, so that's pretty sweet).  They also basically leave you to it down on the ice; you have your duties, you know what they are, and you get on with them.  I would rather imagine that military discipline is not so strict down there.  He left the Navy because they couldn't give him a career doing that stint.  (note that I'm piecing together bits of information over the years gleaned from my mother and to a small degree my grandfather, so my interpretation here may not be quite accurate)

When you go down on the ice, you know the risks.  Your employer--military or civilian--makes sure of it.  Even in summer, it's freezing.  Literally.  Though military discipline might be a bit lax, safety cannot be--you could very easily die a dozen yards away from the base, and not be found for weeks.  People stationed there--civvies and military alike--get asked a different set of questions, including questions that are generally illegal for employers to ask, like "are you pregnant?"  Why can they get away with it?  Health and safety.  When you go down on the ice, that's where you stay.  They can't pull you out if you're bored, lonely, or sick.  You don't get to just quit when you're in Antarctica.  I wanted to apply for a job on the ice (I was woefully unqualified, sadly), and they asked a huge variety of personal questions, because it's lonely down there.  It's isolated, and isolating.  It's dangerous.  It's dark 24 hours a day if you're over-wintering (and light 24 hours a day if you're not).  You need to be fit and healthy, and mentally able to cope with the unique stresses extreme isolation brings (and extreme cold, and darkness).  You also need to be able to cope with the notion that you can't leave.  Plain and simple.  If you over-winter, once they get you in, you stay until they can get a flight back there, which is about six months.

There are medical facilities on the ice; McMurdo likes to think it has a hospital (it does have the largest, most complete clinic on the ice), and Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station also has a physician, and sat-links to consult with specialists if need be (yes, House was based on a real thing).  By plane--which is not possible in the winter--McMurdo and Amundsen-Scott are 3-5 hours apart, and it's another 4 hours to Christchurch from McMurdo, which is the closest city with advanced medical facilities.

I bring all this up because a woman at Amundsen-Scott might have had a stroke.  No one is sure, since the base doesn't have an MRI.  This happened back in August, and anyone who over-winters in Antarctica knows they're trapped from February until mid-late October (winter in the southern hemisphere, or "austral winter" if you wish to sound smart).  Now she and her family are fighting to get her off the ice and to New Zealand for treatment.  She's being told that they'll try to send a flight in on the 17th of October, but they don't know.  There are no runway lights, and the winds are so strong that the blowing snow (and presumably wind shear) may make it impossible to land anyway.  Plus, it's so cold that the jet fuel could start to freeze (if they shut off the engines, it could turn to a jelly-like consistency).  To risk a flight crew and any accompanying personnel, along with the plane--and anything in the way of the plane should it miss the completely dark runway--is insane.  That's why they say you're trapped down there; the risks of trying to pull you out are far too high.

I feel bad for her, I truly do.  I also felt terrible for the doctor who was administering chemotherapy to herself for the breast cancer she discovered while there (she ultimately died).  No matter how healthy you are, it's impossible to 100% predict if you will be ok while on the ice.  But one of the risks of working on the ice is that if you over-winter, you're stuck there.  You sign up knowing the risks.  I can't speak for the military, but for civvies, you don't have to take the job.  They warn you what over-wintering means.  And I imagine that for most people, the risks are part of what makes it exciting; for me, I wanted to work down there because of the extreme nature of the climate--it would nicely balance my working in Death Valley in the summer--the isolation, and the truly interesting idea of being in Antarctica, summer or winter (the job would have been in the winter).  Even balancing the risks, I would have done it.

According to the family and the woman, the real reason they're not sending a medivac unit is for financial reasons.  That may or may not be true; she's the station manager, so she is important, but (and there's no nice way to say this) not irreplaceable.  But for me, the bigger risk isn't losing the plane, but the danger of losing the flight crew.  It's a very expensive, very dangerous venture to try and pull someone out early.  They send planes in as soon as it's safe to retrieve staff, re-staff, and re-stock the bases.  Sending them sooner could mean death.  I understand that when you or someone you love is sick, you do everything you can to save them, but whatever happened to this woman happened well over a month ago, and while she's having problems (her vision is crazy now), she's communicating clearly.  I'm not saying a delay won't hurt, because I'm sure it won't help, but that's part of the risk.  And while you do everything to try and save someone you love, does that give you the right to try and pressure others into needlessly risking their own lives?  Obviously I don't know the whole story, but it does seem like the family is trying to pressure others into risking their lives to save this woman.