All language subtitles for Antarctica.A.Year.on.Ice.2013.1080p.BluRay.x264.YIFY

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My name is Anthony Powell.

I grew up on this dairy farm
in Taranaki, New Zealand.

But I've actually spent most

of my adult life living
and working in Antarctica.

The most common question
I get asked is

"What's it like to live
down there?"

It's so hard to answer
that in words

and it's never really been
captured on film before.

But there's something about
time lapse photography

that brings to life
the dynamic forces of nature

that you can feel
and sense around you,

but you can't actually see.

So I've taught myself how
to use a variety of cameras

and built some homemade
equipment in my spare time

that can still function
in the extreme cold.

It's taken me more than
10 years to make this film.

I've worn out
thousands of dollars

worth of camera gear...

and spent countless hours
standing in the freezing cold

in an effort to capture
the true feeling of this vast

important place.

There really are only
two seasons in Antarctica:

a busy summer when most
of the science happens...

and a wild and lonely winter

that few people will
ever experience.

To understand the place properly

you really need to spend
one full year

down here on the ice.

I think that most people

think that we're all scientists.

There are real people
down here.

It's not just
the people you see

on the National Geographic
channels

or it's not people
who can afford

a $10.000 cruise.

It's people who are just
like you and me

who are average citizens

who are working and doing a job.

That first breath...

it's like a sledgehammer
to the face.

It's your wake up call.

It's okay, you're here now.

This is the real deal.

I couldn't believe
I was actually doing it.

I was actually here.

I was in Antarctica...

the bottom of the planet.

And then my second thought was

"Oh crap,
what have I just done?"

Why am I here?

I saw Erebus

and wanted to go hiking there

and snowboard down it

and I was quickly told "No"

and then I was off to work.

We had been thinking
oh we're going to Antarctica

and when you get here it's like,
oh yeah I've gotta work.

And you don't put that
into your head your first time

you're so excited
about coming down

that you forget that you're
coming down here for a reason.

They hurried us off the plane

so we couldn't take
a look around

and pretty much
it was just here

and the next thing we knew
we were in town.

So the first thing we really saw
of Antarctica was McMurdo

and that's always kind of
disappointing sometimes.

It's a pretty small,
tight community.

People pull together
and get things done.

Pretty amazing what gets done
for what little we have.

I've seen a lot of different
personalities come down here.

The ones that seem to do
the most of it are

the die-hards or
the more grounded people.

McMurdo Station sits
beside the sea on Ross Island.

It's dwarfed by Mt. Erebus

the southernmost
active volcano in the world.

Three kilometers away on
the other side of the peninsula

is the small New Zealand outpost

Scott Base.

Scott Base is a lot
more typical in size

of the other bases
dotted around Antarctica.

And its proximity
to McMurdo is unusual.

There are only
30 permanently manned bases

on the entire continent
and most of these

have less than 20 people
living in them in the winter.

At Scott Base you have to
live and work in one building.

Our accommodation
is a very small room.

It's like a cell, if you like,

or a cupboard.

A lot of things here
can get to you pretty quickly

especially in winter.

And you cannot change them.

You cannot argue much
about them either

because this person
will be in front of your eyes,

you know, on the next Smoko.

So to be tolerant
is very important.

When people ask me why

to come back because this
is the second time

I've arrived in Antarctica.

For me it's those
white mountains.

Those white mountains

and you look across
and you know

just because
humanity had trouble

getting here in the first place
we're relatively new arrivals.

We have not had the opportunity
to mess it up very much yet.

We have nations getting along
better in Antarctica

than I think they're doing
anywhere else in the world.

It's worth something
to keep it this way

if we can do whatever we can
to keep the co-operations

and just the pure pursuit
of things

that make us better as humans.

That's happening right now

on this continent,
and it's special.

I could live indefinitely here

if I could, on occasion,

get out.

Like I haven't...

I've literally gone nowhere

since August.

Most people that have
been here that long

at least have gone to maybe

the Pole or something...

or at least gotten out of town.

You will get to see
some fun stuff

but the main thing you're
down here for is to work.

And I hate to sound cold

when it comes to that,

but I think a lot of people
lose that focus

and when they come down here

and all they get to see
is a dish room

or get to stare at
a computer the whole time

I think they might be
a little disillusioned.

I came down with
the Italians originally.

But having done it once

you know I sort of thought
well that'll do.

But a couple of years later

I was back again.

Still here.

Rob has been flying
in Antarctica for 20 years,

but he's never done
a winter here.

Helicopters only fly
in the summer.

It's probably safer flying here
than in New Zealand

because you never have
to contend with the weather.

At home there's various
degrees of weather.

Here it's either good
or it's not.

Whereas home, it might be okay

or just okay

or I think I can make it.

But there's none of that here.

So, what would be
your favorite place to fly to?

Christchurch.

No, I like the Dry Valleys.

I like the Upper Wright
and the Beacon Valley as well.

It's spectacular scenery,
it really is.

Like Rob, I'm one
of the lucky ones.

The work I do in Antarctica

allows me to get out
and experience

some of the grandeur
and vast emptiness

of this amazing continent.

Wherever there is research
happening in the field

they need their
communications support.

So I spend a lot of time

setting up radio equipment

in remote locations.

When I first came down
here in 1998,

I was struck by how
pure and untouched it was.

There's still places here

where no human
has ever set foot.

I just love
that there's still places

in the world you can go
to experience absolute silence.

When you're out here
and there's no wind

your ears are just
straining to hear something...

anything.

You just don't realize

how much noise
pollution there is

in your daily life
back in the real world.

One very important
thing when you're...

working in the deep field is...

to make sure never
to confuse your pee bottle

with your water bottle.

Well...

the summit of Erebus

and an ice fumarole
that's growing

from steam coming out
of one of the cracks here.

Most days

I can't believe I get
to work in this place.

But there are days when I think

they just can't pay me enough.

God, this is an awful place.

In theory there should be
a flag right about there.

Ah yeah, there we go.

Gotta love GPSs.

It's the middle of summer

and if we check the time
it's ah...

just after 12 o'clock.

That's 12 o'clock
midnight though.

Merry Christmas!

Ah, Christmas dinner...

making food
for lots and lots of people.

It's a big day.

We're spreading holiday cheer.

I think for a lot
of younger folks that come down

it's a real good
experience for them.

It's probably not a career
for most people,

but for some...
it is.

I think I found it

and kind of fell in love
with it.

I have been coming to Antarctica

for about 13 years now.

And when I came down
the first time

I thought, "Ah yeah
this will be great to do once."

You know, just come
to Antarctica.

And then I can say,
"Wow, I went to Antarctica."

And then I signed on

for a contract
the following year

and then...
I don't know what happened.

I'm still here.

There's a saying among
the women of Antarctica

"The odds are good.

But the goods, are odd."

Christine and I met down here

and I proposed to her
in the winter of 2003.

6 weeks later
we had an impromptu wedding

down here on the ice.

The flowers were all hand made
with folded paper.

Christine's friend Lori

made up a dress
from donated fabric.

And the plumbers cut
us some rings

made of brass.

I borrowed the only
dinner jacket on base

from Eric, the station manager

who then acted as our celebrant.

On this night here
on Ross Island,

Christine Marie Gamble

and Anthony Brendan Powell

are celebrating their love

and commitment to each other.

And tonight they will join

as husband and wife

in heart, body and soul.

Hi, Dad!

Just fine. Go ahead.

I'm here.

Thank you.

I've wintered over here
nine times now

and Christine has
wintered eight times.

Living on the ice
is just something

that's become so ingrained
in both of us.

The TV version of penguins

doesn't prepare you
for the reality

of seeing an actual
penguin colony.

There are thousands

of frozen penguin corpses
that litter the ground.

And in summer the sewer stench
from 100.000 penguins

can be pretty unbearable.

Ten... nine... eight...

Seven... Six...
Five... Four...

Three... Two... One...

Happy New Year, McMurdo!

I like this place
for a lot of reasons.

Part of me feels
like living at McMurdo

is like living
in Never-Never Land.

There's a lot of people

who, if you met an aggregate

of people back in
the United States my age,

they have gone in a very

different path in their lives.

And sometimes one of the things
I like the best

is being able to live a life

with people who are
willing to take

a slightly different
path in life.

And so for the first time
in my life

I'm part of a majority because
a lot of us feel that way.

And I've never been part
of the majority before.

We're in this...
we're in a box.

And there's no escape
from each other.

You can't get away.

You're forced to interact
day in and day out.

And you get to know people

very, very quickly.

Whether those
relationships be good or bad

they're going to be very,
very intense.

That was awesome!

Okay, stand by
for contact again.

McMurdo Sound is as far south

as it is possible to bring
a ship in the world.

And the arrival
of the supply ship

marks the last gasp
of summer here.

Once the ship has been offloaded
it's immediately reloaded

with all the rubbish,
recycling, human waste,

and science-related cargo
from the last year.

Nothing is left behind.

At the end of February,
the sun starts to briefly

dip back below the horizon.

And those of us
who will be wintering over

begin to seek each other out.

But most people are
thinking about heading home.

Have you ever been tempted

to hang around for the winter?

No.

When the last plane leaves
that's it.

You're stuck here
for the next 6 months.

No way out.

I remember thinking
what the hell did I do?

I should be on that plane.

No!

God help us!

Once it's gone,

and the last sound of it
has disappeared,

it's like the whole town
just breathes a huge sigh.

Okay, here we are.

You look around at the people

and you say,
"Okay, you're my friends...

you're my family
for the next 6 months."

My first season
was in the winter

and I do recall watching

that last plane leaving
and thinking

boy I hope this is
what I want to do.

Attention all stations.

Stand by for a severe
weather condition announcement.

McMurdo weather has set
severe weather condition 2

for the following locations

McMurdo Station,
T-Site, Arrival Heights,

The Road to Scott Base,

Pegasus Field and road
to Pegasus Field.

All other locations
remain Condition 3.

If there's any questions

please contact McMurdo Weather

at extension 2523-2524.

Some people take
the winters here very well

and there's others
that come down

that just don't do well
with winter.

You know there's not enough
going on for them.

There's not enough
social life for them.

It's actually, I think
a pretty definite line

between winter people
and non-winter people.

I mean, it's usually
fairly obvious.

One of my main jobs
during the winter

is to maintain communications
with the outside world.

This means regular trips
out across the ice shelf

to the satellite station
on Black Island.

During the summer,

it's only a 10-minute
helicopter flight away.

But during the winter
it means getting in a vehicle,

like a Pisten Bully
and driving there.

When conditions are good
it's about a six-hour drive.

But in recent years
the ice shelf has been having

a lot of trouble
with surface melt.

So sometimes
we've been literally

crawling in and out of holes
taller than the vehicles

trying to find a way
to get there.

Hmm, now what?

Get around that.

Hey Bill, can you see any
way through?

Yeah, should be all right.

Black Island is
one of the windiest places

on the planet.

It's so windy that peak winds

have never been
accurately measured

because of the wind gauges
getting blown away.

Current wind speed
is 114 miles per hour

or 99 knots...

Make that 123 miles an hour.

Although the camera
is on the tripod,

you can see the picture
is actually quite shaky.

That's because
the whole building

is being shaken
by the 100-knot winds

we've got at the moment.

Just go for a walk out into
the main satellite dome here

and show you what it looks like.

As you can see,
it's a wee bit windy.

I'll just show you
what it's like

in the bunkhouse here
after the last storm.

All the snow you can see
in the corner of the room here

basically worked its way in

through the tiny gaps
in the window seals.

The wind speeds got up
to 222 miles an hour

so this filled up in just
a matter of a few hours.

And there's
a complete lounge suite

in the corner over there.

This is the fireplace

that's normally used for
keeping the room warm.

In the middle of March,

there's that magical
brief couple of weeks

when the sun is rising
and setting

like normal days

and you can actually
leave the curtains open

on your window at night

to be woken up
by the sunrise in the morning.

We were out
and the wind came up

and there was just moments
that it was so cold

I could really

actually feel the danger in it

and feel the...
this crazy like mind thing

that happened that was like...

it was hard to focus
on anything

except just getting out
of the conditions we were in

and trying
to just be warm again.

It was really hard
to still focus on

gathering all of the gear
and trying

to do what needed to be done

rather that just run

for whatever vehicle

or, you know, it was...

it was amazing how

your instinct...
it just...

it just snaps.

The first time where
I was just ridiculously cold

was actually with you
just a few days ago

taking the shift photo
up on the hill.

Oh yeah.

The wind was whipping
through there.

I'd probably say it was
negative 80 with wind chill.

And I remember
looking over at Chris Cavanaugh

and tears were streaming
down his face.

He didn't even know it
because it was so cold

and the thing that surprised me

is when he looked
at me a second time

those tears had frozen
to his face.

So that's...

that made an impression on me.

Maybe it's time to get inside.

We're about 30 K's away

from the nearest seawater here
and it's still quite common

to find guys like this.

It's a mummified seal

that's lost its way

and wandered inland.

It's an amazingly
common occurrence.

It's heartbreaking when you see

animals in distress like this

because we're not allowed
to interfere.

We just have to let nature
take its course.

It can be really hard

just being away from home
and hearing stories.

My sister just had a baby boy
a week ago.

And that day was...

really bittersweet.

It was really cool,

but man I wanted nothing
more than

to get the hell out of here

just for a day.

Go home and enjoy that moment

with my family
because they were all together

and then I was down here,

you know,
shooting emails out all day

and then on the phone
a couple times

and that was really really hard.

So for me,

what sucks is definitely

missing family,
but more importantly

missing these big moments
with them,

you know,

my family's lives back home.

Well, I mean, first of all,

I had my concerns.

And this is what I do
always in my life

that if I'm ever feeling low

I have things around
just in case.

One of the things is I brought
a lot of photos of my family

so I have them taped
to my fridge.

And then I just know

that there's always
people on my side

even if it seems like the walls
are closing in down here.

It was just like any other day

and the phone rang.

It was my grandmother

and immediately
my heart sunk because

I knew something was wrong.

And she told me that
my father had passed away

and...

it was quite a shock.

I never expected that

it was...
it was really difficult.

I mean, when you lose a parent

it's a big thing.
And to not be able to

be with your family
during that time

and not be able
to go to the funeral.

I just...
it leaves things unfinished.

I wanted to be there
for my family.

I needed to be there

and I couldn't.

It's probably the most
isolated place on the planet

and that's really hard
to adjust to.

I can see people who...

one winter would be
enough for them.

It's really hard for a lot
of people.

I found that there
was this curve

where I just really
started missing like

eating sushi and Indian food

and going to movies
and just like...

the life.

And then it became like so much

that I just really
missed it a lot

and then it just
dropped off and...

I don't miss...

I don't know if it's like

a post-traumatic stress
disorder response

or I don't want to think
about what I miss

or I'll get really distressed
or what it is,

but there's
not a lot that I miss.

I've been thinking
about avocados lately.

An avocado would be nice.

You may want to have

a toast with avocado

and then you can only
dream about it.

But simple as...

black tea with fresh milk

or perhaps even better

with fresh cream.

Dark bread.

Cauliflower.

It's brilliant.

Just to have
a fresh head of cauliflower

would be very nice now.

Noooooo!

It's no good we can't do
anything for him now.

In the winter of 2008,

I started a 48-hour

Antarctic film festival.

And invited all the bases
on the continent to participate.

One of the greatest pleasures

of watching these films
each year

is just getting to see what
the other bases look like...

and who else is out there

wintering over on the ice.

Carolina,

great to hear your voice.

Yes how are you?

I'm good. Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.

Everything's good here.

Just um...

having...

having my breakfast
and some coffee.

How are your parents?

- Another hour?
- Ummm.

Are we ever going
to see the sun again?

One day.

Guess you start to get used

to living in a world
without light.

The days get short
and the nights get long

'till the nights get real long.

Towards the end
of the month there...

there's no more sun

and...
that's all she wrote.

I was scared
of the coming darkness

the coming darkness

for so many months
and I thought

is that going to get to me?

Is that going to make me...

well, how will that affect me?

I was pretty scared of that
and how that might...

just change me.

I would correspond
with winter-overs

when I was off the ice

and you could just
see it in their emails.

They would change.

And I'm like wow
is that going to change me?

I don't know.

As it is the light changes
enough in the sky

that it's still seems to me

that the sun is just
around the corner.

And I think that's had a great
effect on me because

it just reminds me that no,

it's not just dark.

Attention all stations

standby for a severe
weather condition announcement.

McMurdo weather has set
Severe Weather Condition One

for the following locations:

McMurdo Station, T-site,
Arrival Heights,

Pegasus Field,

Williams Field,
road to Williams Field...

Check this out.

This is the entryway
to our dorm.

Normally this has carpet
on the ground

and the walls are just
normally walls, you know,

But...

We're going to open
the door right now

and it's a little bit
like opening up

the door to another world.

Are you ready?

It's a little bit blowy
out there right now.

You know,
when you watch television here

and you see all the things

that are going wrong
in the world

you know that's...

it's like thank
goodness I'm here.

But then you also
then watch shows where

you see swaying palm trees

and people laughing

and bucolic scenes

and you're not there.

You're here where it's
dark and cold and windy.

I was out on the sea ice,

and suddenly
off of Observation Hill

comes rolling
these just waves...

waves of green...

like fairy dust.

Like a giant curtain
of fairy dust

just kind of undulating over me

that filled the whole sky
and just moved in waves across.

And I thought this is
either what it looks like

if aliens are about
to abduct you.

And almost like you feel like
you could reach up and touch it.

Or if you're a person
who believes in Heaven...

maybe this is what you see
when you go to Heaven.

I'm not sure,

but it was really an emotional
life-changing experience for me.

I mean I really found myself
not realizing I'd done it.

When I figured out
where my body position was

I was actually on my knees
and I was crying.

Like that's how beautiful
it was to me.

It's the month of June

and right now
it's the middle of the day.

I grew up in a very rural area

so I could see
the stars very well.

...In rural Minnesota.

And I've been in the mountains

and, you know, Colorado.

And I thought
wow the sky looks beautiful.

But I never knew a star
could flash like...

fluorescent pink...
fluorescent green...

fluorescent blue...
white...

just in that rotation.

Just blink-blink-
blink-blink-blink.

One star like...

it looks like a strobe
light to me.

There's a lot of them that look

like a strobe light up there.

And you would never know...

you'd never know...

what the sky looks like.

It's wonderful.

I loved the 24 hours
of darkness.

Maybe on full moon nights,
and other nights,

I would see the mountains.

But sometimes I'd forget
the mountains were even there.

And so my entire world
was just in the little spaces

and walking around.

It really does
change your perception.

Towards the end of summer,

the thing I was most
looking forward to was

seeing darkness again.

Like I just wanted
to see some nighttime.

And now that it's night time.

I don't really miss the day
that much right now.

We have three dinners
here each year.

Of course our sunset
now at the midwinter,

and as we all know
that sun rise isn't far away.

So I'd like you
to charge your glasses

and to friendships
and long-lasting friendships.

Thank you.

Cheers!

Cheers!

It's very cool that there is

a unique holiday in Antarctica

that people from all
over the world celebrate

and we send greetings
to each other,

and good will to each other,

and remember the history
that brought us here

in the first place

and the goals
of what we're up to

here in the first place.

And it's just...

it's wonderful.

I really liked
the mid-winter time.

Oh God.

Well, that woke me up.

Come on, Brody.

Do it. Do it.
Do it.

How is it?

Cold.

The other day
I came in from outside

and Christine asked me
is it cold outside today?

And I said "Oh no.

It's not too bad."

And then it struck me...

the absurdity
of the conversation

because we're in Antarctica,

It's the middle of winter,

and she's asking me
if it's cold outside.

And secondly it was 40 below.

We haven't seen
the sun for months

and I thought it was a nice day.

So it's fascinating
the way our perceptions

of what we consider normal
have shifted.

Nine, zero, six.
Firehouse.

Go for nine, zero, six.

Hey just checking
on the progress

is Scott Base road open again?

That is a negative.
We need 10 more minutes.

Being in this office-type
setting under fluorescents

for the six-day work week,

I think that ended up
being much more...

of a challenge
because I wasn't outside

and doing anything.

Firehouse, Genevieve.

Sure, one sec.

Trying to break out
of that rut of just...

waking...
going to work...

eating...
sleeping...

and doing it all over again.

Firehouse, Genevieve.

A lot of people work
the same thing

every day

and they're not used
to repetitive motions

in their actions.

It can be kind of tiring

just to do
the same thing every day.

You have to bring some
spice into it.

Thank you.

Francis, your chef at McMurdo,

we exchange a few.

He brought his mead

and I gave him a bottle,

this mixed nine bottle.

And he says it's a very
good drink.

So well,
tell me what you think?

- Cheers.
- L'chaim.

The winter season sets up
and offers more

of an introspective outlook...

where you can
take the time to read

or work on a craft.

There's still times.

But I think it really helps

if you can
spend that time alone.

There's no substitute for just
having a good book in your hand.

Andrew Weil.

Now it's a very small
small print here.

Biblical Hebrew.

Grammar of biblical Hebrew.

I knit.

It keeps away the feeling
of stir craziness in the winter

when I just feel like I might
like to tear my hair out

and run outside screaming.

Towards the end of winter

the extreme cold, the fatigue,

and constant lack of sunlight
or any new stimulus

creates a condition
called T3 Syndrome.

Attention all stations,

standby for a severe weather
condition announcement.

The N-S-S...

N-S-F station manager,

has set severe weather
condition one for...

the following locations.

So I work at the store,

and we open every day at 11:30,

and almost every day

this person comes in

and buys something at like
11:35 or 11:40.

We have the same conversation.

I usually give him
a pack of cigarettes.

And the other day
at about the same time

he comes in and he goes "Wow!

I didn't know
you guys opened at this time.

Have you always been open
at this time?"

And I was like,

"So and so,
you come in every single day.

You buy the same thing
every single day."

And he was just like,

"Wow, I never thought you guys
were open at this time."

and he just kind of
wandered off.

Firehouse, Genevieve.

A couple of days ago
Talie called and I said.

"Oh, Talie,
I'm so glad you called.

I was just thinking about...
I was thinking about you.

I was just about to page you."

And she said,
"Well you did page me."

So I had completely forgotten
that I had paged her.

And that seems to happen
more times than not.

There was a time where...
I was... had to go outside

and the chief... eh... she
tossed down a pair of boots.

I go ahead and I put them on

and I'm walking around in them

they feel really weird.

I don't know why.

I get to the door of the bay

where I'm leaving and...

and I look down and...

they're on the wrong feet.

So I walk back,
I pull them off.

I take the right boot off
and set it down.

And take the left boot off
and set it down.

I pick up the first one

and put it on the same foot
I just had it on

and put on the...

So I had basically
taken them off

and put them back
on the wrong feet

and walked outside again.

I've been coming down here
since '99

so it's kind of...

it's all the same
to me pretty much.

It's gone.
My memory is gone.

I remember trying to call my Dad

at the same phone number
I grew up with.

I couldn't remember it.

I caught myself trying to...

It took me over 10 seconds

to remember if S came before
or after T in the alphabet.

And that was like a sign.

I need to get up
and away from my desk

and get a grip.

Ahhhhh.

Ahhhhh.

I've started saying "Ahhh"
a lot more

than I ever used to
and it's not something

I mean to do.

It's just something that
I use to fill the time

where I never did that before
I came down here.

I never, I mean,
I would say "Ah",

but I would never say
"Ahhhhhhhhhhh."

You ahhhh...

I just had a T3 moment.

I totally forgot
my line of thinking.

Sorry, what was
the original question?

If there's any way
to bottle or bring in

just the smell of summer...

the scent of flowers...

and of rain and of green grass

and of rivers.

The smell of crops and corn

and just the smell of dirt.

There's no smell of dirt here.

It's all volcanic.

Oh man.

I miss the rain

and trees and water and...

family and my knuckle-head
nephews.

You do miss out on quite a bit.

You do make some sacrifices
coming down here.

I probably
would never repeat winter.

The problem is...

you never know

who you'll end up with.

You almost feel
like you're stuck...

stuck in a really small town

and there's nothing
else out there...

until the sun starts coming out.

And then you realize
where you are again.

There's a great feeling
of anticipation

when twilight begins

to creep back into the sky
in August.

It's a bit like being
a child again

waiting for Christmas.

August is also the coldest
time of the year.

And nacreous clouds
will start to form a lot more.

Although this is part
of the process

that is destroying
the ozone layer,

when the sun finally
does hit them

it can look incredible.

Like the entire sky in on fire.

Seeing the sun is always still

the most amazing experience.

I wait for it.
I wait for it to come back.

And then there'll be that
moment where I see it.

And I never know when
that moment is going to be.

But when it happens,

I just have to stop
wherever I am.

Stop in my tracks
and I just look at it.

I just want it to fill
the inside of my head,

just let that sun
come right through my eyes.

It's the life-giving thing.

Okay, away you go.

In this cup is boiling water.

It's 40 below zero outside.

This is what happens
when you throw

boiling hot water
into 40 below zero air.

Here we go.

The Population on base
suddenly doubles at Winfly

and for those of us
who have wintered over

the arrival of a whole
new crowd of faces

can be a bit bewildering.

It's kind of crazy.

I think people either
are energized by it

or just the opposite.

They have energy drawn
from them

and I would tend to be
one of those people

who have energy drawn from me.

I'm not a big fan
of when all the folks come in.

For six months you've seen
only the same people every day.

There hasn't been anyone new.

All of a sudden you've got all
these new people coming through.

Kind of this feeling
of glee and happiness

mixed with revulsion
like, "Aggghhh, stay away!"

And I've even seen
winter-overs kind of hide

behind corners
and kind of look out.

We've had a closed community
over the winter

and there's been no germs,
no one gets sick.

But new people come in...
new germs.

They all have all this energy
and they're orange.

I mean we always talk
about the orange people

because they're tanned.

You don't really realize
how pale we all are

from lack of sunshine.

Just walking through the galley,

I felt like I was moving
at this little pace

and everyone else
was rushing around...

around me.

I was surprised at how
territorial we all were.

I remember getting back
from the flight line

and coming straight to dinner.

And I got my tray and my plate

and I looked up
and I saw a line.

And I was so livid

that I had to wait in line.

These new people they

weren't with the program yet.

They didn't know
what they were doing

the whole routine
was messed up.

And I was so livid.

I felt like I could have
stabbed somebody with a fork.

And I didn't understand it.

I'm like,
"Why am I so angry?"

I couldn't eat in the galley.

I went up to my room.

And...
I'm sitting in my room

for about 5 minutes
contemplating about

why I was so angry.

And then I get knocks on my door

and it's the rest
of the Firehouse.

"Can we eat in here with you?"

Yeah.

So we sat down
and for half an hour

we ate our meals watching TV.

Didn't say a word to each other
and it was beautiful.

The first few days,

or maybe the first week,

is kind of a culture shock.

You know, the dynamics change.

The noise level rises.

But after that
the new people that come here

they have so much energy

and I find that it brings me up.

And I actually get more excited
about getting stuff done

and moving around.

It kind of wakes me up.

Keri, how does it feel to have
a fresh apple after 6 months?

Orange, apple?

Why don't you take
that behind doors?

I'm sure I'll get one very soon.

Be gentle with the banana.

I would love to be able

to show the people
who I love the most

what it looks like down here...

what the sky looks like
down here in winter.

Because they're never
going to see it.

It's funny.

Right before winter started
we'd tell these stories

about how you'd get T3
and you get pale

and you're just
emotional sometimes.

And these people
who have never wintered

are looking at us
like we're freaks.

Like why would you ever

put yourself through
something like that?

And then, at the end,

we'd look at each other and say,

"Winter's the best.

It's the greatest."

I try and explain
the experience,

the Antarctic experience,
to people back home,

and they love hearing about it.

The stories and what it's like.

But, you know that...

they just...
they will never get it.

They'll never fully comprehend
what it's like down here.

So if you were to spend
another year down here

what would you do differently?

Not bring as much stuff.

I've met some of the best people
in the world here.

And I think a lot of that is
because of the fact

that those of us that come here

always have a kind
of a spirit of adventure.

And that's something
that kind of binds us together.

These might be...

the golden years of Antarctica.

Right now,
what is being done is science.

Right now there's
a treaty that says

you get to be here
to cooperate,

look for peace,

and look for knowledge
for mankind.

And I just can't think
of another place

where that's really going on
so I feel really privileged

to be a citizen
of Antarctica right now.

I really really do.

And some day,
somebody is going to find a way

to get oil commercially.

And some day,
the treaty is going to end.

And some day, you know...

I don't know that we'll always
be able to play as nice

as we can right now.

You come down here
out of a sense of adventure.

But then it gets
its hooks in you.

And you realize

how magic and fragile
it all is.

And if we're not careful,

if we're not conscientious,

It could all get ruined.

Imagine you live in a house.

And this is just one room
in your house...

a cold room where nobody lives.

But it's still
a room in your house

and as such you have
to care about this room.

And you have to know
about what's going on there.

There is a good expression
in the English language:

peace of mind.

I really like it.

Peace of mind
is a very nice thing to have.

The friends you make
and the memories

that you take from here
last a lifetime.

I've met guys who were
down here 50 years ago

who would like nothing
more in the world

than the chance
to come back again...

just one more time.

You know you can never really
call this place home.

But at the same time
there's a familiarity

that just builds up.

I definitely long for it
when I'm away.

I fully expect
that my time here

is not going to end
on my terms.

The program could change

or I might not pass
the physical...

or there might not be a job.

No one gets to stay
here indefinitely.

And then the time comes
when it's your turn to leave

and you never really
do know for sure

if you'll ever be back again.

One of the things I recall

in the process
of reacclimating to society

was a Monday morning.

It's probably 8:30
in the morning

and I am stuck in traffic.

I remember looking
at all the cars around me.

Everybody's...
they're in their own little...

They're in the grind
of the world.

And I can't help
but look at everybody else

and think...

they're cattle.

It's just one big herd
moving from point A to point B.

And eh... I just... at that point

I wanted to be back
on the Ice again.

It's not until you get
off the Ice

that you realize the absence
of smell that we have here...

the absence of odors.

So yeah... that eh...

you can go
to the Botanical Gardens

for an olfactory overload.

I'm gonna go to the
New World Supermarket

and I'm going to stand
in the produce section

and just smell the air

for about 15 minutes.

And then I'm going to buy
the following things:

some really good chewy crusty bread,

a hunk of really good
blue cheese,

an avocado and some
red grapes with no seeds.

And that's what I'm going to eat
for like three meals.

There comes a point
in the winter

when...

at least us, the guys,

us in the Firehouse,

we stop talking about women.

And we start talking about food

because it's a much more
realistic prospect.

So...

I've narrowed it down.
I'm going to go

and I'm going to have
steak and lobster.

I'm going to splurge.

Fresh vegetables with flavor.

A bean burrito from Taco Bell.

Dark bread.

Avocado.

Cauliflower.

A bowl of cornflakes
with real milk

and sliced bananas.

Eggs Benedict at the Boulevard
in New Zealand.

Anything in Christchurch
is always good. It's eh...

anything non-institutional.

When I get back to New Zealand
the first thing I long to do

well first, first thing is go
through the Botanic Gardens

and just touch the grass
and smell the flowers.

But then I try to get
to the ocean

to see that motion I guess.

You're standing on
the ocean now.

Exactly.

That's what's so funny.
And I'm a mountain girl,

so it's never been
a draw before.

Walk barefoot in grass.

I'm going to fly straight home
to Washington State.

And I'm going to fly-fish
my brains out for about 3 weeks

going for salmon and steel head.

And when I puke,
I think that's when I'll stop.

I really like going to sleep
in my own bed.

I really like...
Oh rain.

Just hearing the rain
and seeing it

feeling it again.
Wonderful.

I plan on doing nothing.

I hope it rains at least one day
while I'm in Christchurch,

just so I can
wander around in the rain.

I'd love that.

I hope it's...
I want some rain.

Have a decent sleep.

Have a decent sleep
for a few days.

I don't know.

Check into a hotel room
and take a bath.

My brain is freezing.

Let me think.

I think my brain is freezing now
and I can't think.

Skip that question.