Because everything is going so well and we are on target with our sampling, a window of opportunity has opened. We are going to have lunch beside the giant iceberg while the crew in the Fast Rescue Craft (FRC) takes a small party to collect some special water samples. When they return we will have a group photo on the helideck. Looks good on paper.

The berg has a name and a history. B-17A calved from the Ross Ice Shelf in April 2000 and appears to have become grounded here in 2006. It's 35 km long. Toby measured its height using the sextant and found it was 43 metres high. From the chair in my cabin the iceberg makes up a strip across the middle third of my porthole.

Testing the waters around B-17A is Tank's extra project. He wants to find out if icebergs are a source of trace elements such as Iron that would provide nutrients to the ecosystem and promote the growth of plankton. To avoid contamination he plans to collect his samples using a bottle on the end of a long bamboo pole extended upstream of the FRC. Microbiologist Jeff also wants to pick up some nutrient rich water to filter and maybe pick up a chunk of ice as well. Esmee and Mark are taking samples and providing quality control.

Lucky things.



With sample bottles loaded, the party emerged in their colourful but unflattering immersion suits and stepped onto the orange craft ready to be winched from the ship. In seconds the bright flash was just a dot heading towards B-17A.

Conversation was very chirpy on the radio as the first station was reached and sampling began. Not long after that voices carried a touch of strain as we learned that a 'belt' had broken. No problem. Paul would fashion another one from gaffer tape. The makeshift belt was replaced a number of times, the boat limped along, got through all the sample sites and after several hours headed back to the watchful mother ship. In the meantime several announcements reminded the ship's company of the group photo on the helideck at 1245.

I wondered what it would be like to be at sea level and so much closer to the walls of the giant iceberg, and what it would be like to be liberated from the ever present engine hum of the ship and to hear only the sound of the sea and air. What an absolute charge it must have been to shoot away into the wilderness like that.

But how luck can change. A hydraulic seal blew in the Davit winch just as the FRC was about to come up. The little boat had to stand off while the ship's crew flew into action to shut down the valve and clean up the small spill on the deck. Now C deck was closed and the FRC winch wasn't operational.

The FRC was sent around to the door on the port side so everyone could come up the pilot's rope ladder. But the bright day had closed over and a snowstorm blew right across our path. Our backdrop, B-17A completely disappeared! The photo shoot is now postponed.

In the meantime the snow swirled about as each of the expeditioners made their way up the rope ladder, leaving the crew with the FRC until the winch was repaired. A sack of food was lowered and these left behind footled around beside the ship until the boat could be hauled up again.

Now we are alongside the giant iceberg about 500 metres off and gasping at the shining walls. In this late afternoon sun it looks as if Christo has been here and wrapped all of B-17A in silver foil.


Pics:
christo wrap in B-17A
FRC sample (Esmee Van Wijk)
FRC away

Margot Foster is a journalist currently on board the Australian Aurora Australis, an Australian research vessel currently participating in the Census of Antarctic Marine Life (CAML, IPY project 53). She works with the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC).