Antarctica 2018: Chapter 17: McMurdo, the Big Town of Antarctica

Link to Chapter 16: To All Points North
Link to Chapter 15: The South Pole Traverse Arrives
Link to Chapter 14: Two pictures to sum it all up.
Link to Chapter 13: Visual tour of South Pole Station.
Link to Chapter 12: What is LANDIT, and why does it need the South Pole?
Link to Chapter 11: Work at the South Pole.
Link to Chapter 10: Thank you, friends.
Link to Chapter 9: At the bottom of the world
Link to Chapter 8: Onward, Southward!
Link to Chapter 7: Exploring McMurdo Station
Link to Chapter 6: Touchdown Antarctica
Link to Chapter 5: Flight Day!
Link to Chapter 4: ECWs
Link to Chapter 3: Christchurch!
Link to Chapter 2: Auckland
Link to Chapter 1: From Hawaii to Antarctica

I haven’t really spent enough time at Mac to write anything conclusive about it (though I’ve certainly heard a fair amount second-hand). So far, I think it’s fair to say that it’s like any “small big town”… there’s enough people to provide some variety, with little intimacy.

For me, being back at Mac is like returning to a summer paradise. It’s over fifty degrees warmer here! The register read 10 degrees Fahrenheit when I stepped off the plane… that’s right, positive ten degrees. I haven’t experienced temperatures in the positive register for over a month. We are also back at sea level, and after a long time at 10,000 feet, I feel like I’m surrounded by oxygen, drinking it in by the gallon. I was tired the day I arrived from Pole, but went for an outdoor run later that day. Ran like a gazelle, too, even if I do say so myself. Just saying that, let alone doing it, feels like a massive accomplishment.

And there are mountains here! Something to look at, even climb! I went on a hike up Ob Hill earlier today, right in the center of Mactown. I started at the same time as a local Mac guy, and made it to the top of Ob Hill, and halfway back down, before I saw him again. It’s amazing what you can do at sea level, with warm temperatures and a lungful of oxygen!

Can you see the plane?

Ob Hill to the left, a common Mac hike

And there is a social scene here! Not one bar, but two, and both jammed to the hilt after 8 PM. The cognitive dissonance of opening the door of a grungy dive bar and being confronted with bright sunlight, however, is pretty real. There are events every day — hikes, treks, even a half-marathon. And the internet! It’s round the clock and there’s Wi-Fi! That’s right, folks… no waiting till 10 pm at night to catch a signal to the rest of the world; Mactown is connected to the world 24 hours a day.

This place seems great, right? Internet around the clock, warm temperatures, things to do, bars to hang out in, new people all the time? Well, as the saying goes: “Happy people focus on what they have; unhappy people focus on what’s missing”.

I don’t know who wrote this… but I suspect they are not a lot of fun to be around, in general. It’s tough to imagine someone with this level of angst getting along well at Pole. Judging by some of the conversations I’ve overheard, and feedback from veteran Mactowners, this is more common than you’d think.

Here’s my diagnosis. I think Mac is “enough” like a real town: people you don’t know, water treatment facilities, group activities and, yes, the collective grunge that a thousand people in one place leave behind… that it’s easy to lose perspective on one simple thing: you’re still in Antarctica. At Pole, you just have to look outside the window. The edge of the Station, and therefore civilization, is evident. No wildlife, no human colonization… and you’re filled with a sense of place. A reminder that humans aren’t really meant to live there. At Mac, you could be fooled. December is “mud season”: everything is slushy (because it’s warm!). There’s dirt - real honest to God dirt - everywhere. The roads are clear, with little icicles melting. When I look out, I see heaps of industrial buildings and shacks and columns of vehicles and noisy people. You could easily think to yourself: well, shit, I’m in North Dakota.

But you still have the problems of Antarctica. Things are still flown in, and therefore not readily available. Everyone still has to do their part to keep things liveable… but there’s enough people that you’re going to have those that don’t contribute, thinking that it’ll just be lost in the noise. You may have 24 hour internet, but it’s going to be slow. The facilities might not be up to home standards (below were two of the most common facilities complaints). Coming from Pole, all of this is immediately obvious to me, but perhaps not as obvious to several of the people that live here.

Of course, I’m merely speaking to the experience that I have had over five short days (so far) in Antarctica’s big town. I’m not generalizing for all Mactowners, nor would I do so even if I’d had more time there. The point I’m trying to make is: Mactown has its issues, and as a Polie, some of the angst behind those issues puzzle me. For example, I don’t care about the electrical surge in the shower... I can shower every day if I want, that is the important part! I don’t care about dial-up internet speeds… I can go on the internet anytime, that is the important part! But it’s just a loss of perspective, which happens no matter where you are on the ice. At Pole, the long darkness and isolation make you lose perspective on which issues are important and which are trivial. And as I think about it, maybe at Mac, what makes you lose perspective is that there are enough hints of “real-world” living that you are invited to forget, even if temporarily, that you’re still very, very far from the real-world.

If you know me, you know I never thought I’d say this… but ten degrees, that’s no gloves and light jacket weather!