24 June 1998

Day 25: Box Core, Be a Polar Bear (Again)

Today was seamlessly integrated with yesterday, since I made the mud ladydecision to go box-coring with the mud people last night. I don't know what brought me to doing that, but I am glad I did it. We ended up staying up all night -- starting the box-cores at 0200, and doing three of them which took us to 0630. No sleep in between, and a lot of coffee.

I really enjoyed the box cores. It was fascinating to see what came up in the mud, and what consistency the mud was. Apparently this was the slimiest mud they had seen all trip -- completely filling up the core. As far as critters, I saw a whole bunch of worm tubes. Those were interesting, but what I found even more captivating were the relic worm tubes that had been preserved in the mud. We were on the part of the canyon where the sediment is moved from the ledge, and settles, so the relic worm tubes could've been very old.

All three cores were successful, but on the last one my hands were completely numb. I had switched from warm, but bulky gore-tex gloves, to leather, water repellent, but cold gloves. It turned out to be okay. I felt really good that I was able to be helpful. I helped Lisa and Laura out with the core tubes of mud they were transferring to the sieving table, and I also helped out with lifting box-core parts so that they could be lowered back into the water.

Once all of the box-coring was complete, I went and got some breakfast. It tasted very good, having been living off of coffee for the past several hours. I was not tired, so I could have conversations that I otherwise probably wouldn't have had, due to my groggy morning behaviors. I finally got to see how Mr. Buckley made his entrance into the mess hall, this having been the first time I've been up before him...

After breakfast, I went to the dry lab, and looked at the samples that had to be run today. They were still very icy, and we decided we'd have to wait for them to melt. With this opportunity, I quickly fell asleep on the pile of Mustangs, and later found it in my tired soul to migrate to my bunk.

I slept 'till about one, the time we were scheduled to have a GE drill. So, I went up to the dry-lab, awaiting the drill (which didn't happen until twenty minutes past one), and was all prepared to be in the cold hangar with my jacket. GE went very smoothly, so I went to the mess-deck, got myself some leftover soup from lunch, and a bowl of cereal to prepare me for running samples. We ran the samples painlessly, and were left to our own devices for a while.

I went out on the bow, to check out the sights, and as soon as I did so, the boat stopped, and they declared another ice liberty. Well, this did not exactly have me jumping for joy, but I was looking forward to getting on the ice without a huge mustang on. I proceeded onto the ice, where they were serving beer and coke. I took neither, and looked around. I offered to take pictures of people by the hull, and then checked out some other sights. Dinner was piped, so I headed back onto the boat, and started eating.

As I was eating, over the pipe came a message that catered nicely to my recent thoughts about being in Barrow once again. The pipe was: "If you want to be a REAL Polar Bear, we are swimming on the port side."

I abandoned my Jello, and got my shorts and river-shoes on. Dashing outside, I spotted a huge crowd of people around a melt-pond, and I ran towards it. They were taking down names of people who wanted to jump into the melt-pond (which I later noticed went all the way through in one part). Certain volunteers came up, many hesitant, but I wanted to do it before I realized what I was doing. Jonesy -- an aviator -- quickly told the guy who was basically organizing the whole deal to let me go. So, I promptly got up to the edge, took my shirt off, and planted my feet. I remember myself starting to hesitate, when the horror of what I was about to do started to sink in, and that is when I launched myself into the air. The last sane memory I have of the whole experience was myself hovering over the beautiful aqua-blue, sparkling water. It was almost too peaceful -- but that changed when I hit.

Ice with leadsThe coldest water I have ever had direct contact with, covered my body with stabbing needles and filled my nasal passages with an ice-cold novocaine. My body decided it didn't like the way my conscience was handling things, so it took over, relying solely on instinct, and made its way as quickly as possible to the edge. I remember seeing my hands doing a flailing version of the crawl stroke out in front of me, and clutching the loose, icy snow that formed the bank. My hands went completely numb upon contact with the snow, but I clambered up the bank anyway. I ignored the people telling me there was a ladder right beside me, scrambled up to my feet, undid the safety belt, grabbed my towel, and ran several hundred meters -- naked in the arctic -- towards the boat.

Never have I experienced such an incredibly, indescribably, cold substance. It was beyond words. Before my entire body went numb, an incredible jolt of pain of protest from my body struck me. It was the pain that you get after your toes are thawing out after a long ski, or something. Only it was my entire body, and it was sharp -- not lingering. But, I am now a Polar Bear in all respects. I have survived the initiation from crossing the Arctic Circle, and I have swum in the Arctic Ocean's unforgiving waters. My soul is now complete.

It looks like tonight is going to be another all nighter. This should be our last station that we hit very early tomorrow morn, and I intend to capture it in my mind in all its splendor and glory. I will miss the ice -- the beautiful hues of the Arctic sky -- the majestic wonders that feast off what the Arctic has to provide.


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