Earth’s last outpost...
CORONAVIRUS-FREE: SAFETY MEASURES SAVE ANTARCTICA PERSONNEL
Isolation at the end of the world is even more extreme as bases cut physical ties with each other.
As the planet battles the seemingly inexorable spread of the coronavirus, Antarctica remains the only Covid19-free continent – thanks in the main to strict security and not a little luck.
The natural isolation of the frozen and desolate expanse has been taken to new extremes since the World Health Organisation declared a pandemic on 11 March.
Authorities cancelled all tourism, evacuated non-essential personnel and prohibited contact between the international ice stations.
“We are isolated within this natural isolation that we already have,” said Alejandro Valenzuela, the maritime governor of Chile’s Antarctic territory.
Strict new health protocols were quickly put in place and visits limited to vital supplies.
Chile has cut its Antarctic staff to a minimum, maintaining a skeleton force of 10 navy personnel at its Escudero military base in Bahia Fildes on the South Shetlands.
The harsh environment has always demanded close cooperation between various international missions. Nearby is one of five Russian bases, as well as missions from Uruguay, Korea and China. Provisions are often unloaded and loaded together and recreation areas shared.
There were sports competitions and mutual invitations for national day celebrations and birthday parties. But the fear of the coronavirus has put an end to all physical contact between bases.
Antarctica caught a lucky break when the start of the crisis coincided with the end of the tourist season, which brings around 50 000 visitors a year on cruise ships to view penguins and seals in the pristine environment.
The last tourist ship arrived in Bahia Fildes on 3 March, just when the first case of infection was reported in Chile.
And the continent dodged a bullet when an inward bound Australian tour ship, the Greg Mortimer, was forced to turn back when the first cases of Covid-19 were discovered aboard, an outbreak which eventually affected nearly all 217 passengers and crew. From April, as the austral winter closes in and sun becomes a memory, weather conditions prevent all but essential travel to and from the continent.
The declaration of a pandemic made controls even tighter, said Valenzuela.
“Supplies are sanitised before they can be brought in and contact with the ship is minimal. People stay on board and we don’t have direct contact now,” he said.
Strict hygiene controls are also now in place at Chile’s Eduardo Frei Air Base. The maximum number of people allowed to eat at a table in the canteen at any one time is limited to four, and sports activities in the gym and indoor recreation dome are suspended.
Uruguay cut staff at its Artigas base to just nine people, after recently evacuating 10 non-essential personnel.
“The next turnover will be in the first fortnight of December, so the people left there will spend all winter there,” said Rear-Admiral Manuel Burgos, president of the Uruguayan Arctic Institute.
The Uruguayans who stayed behind, like the Chilean marines, will have no contact with the other bases.
“We are very conscious of what we are experiencing. We assume it with a resolve and we don’t let ourselves get down,” said Valenzuela, who arrived in Antarctica in November for a year-long stint.
The spirit among those there is strong. So much so, Valenzuela said, “that we are now the ones sending messages of encouragement to our families”. – AFP
Guy Hawthorne
Ihave no one but myself to blame. Having been put on enforced leave for a week because of the dire economic situation as a result of the Covid-19 lockdown, I was concerned that I would die of boredom.
It was really stupid of me, I know, but I mentioned this to the missus, who decided it would be a good idea for me to repaint our kitchen cupboards and drawers, which were covered in a peeling, unattractive, pseudo-pine laminate.
“Distressed white,” she declared. “That would look really nice.”
“Distressed” white? Growing up, white was white. But a quick search of the internet confirmed that times have, indeed, changed. The first site I clicked on listed more shades of white than I’ve had hot breakfasts.
There was Cloud White, Snow White, Brilliant White, Pure White, Dove White, Chalk White, Simply White, Lace White, Super White, Extra White … the list went on and on and on.
Under the terms of the lockdown, “distressed” white actually made perfect sense to me, as would “distressed” black, coloured or Indian. If we ever come out of this lockdown, I figured, the repainted kitchen would be a poignant reminder of these stressful times.
I removed doors and drawers, used a heat gun to loosen the old laminate before I scraped it off, sanded everything to clean the surfaces and then used a scouring pad to apply a streaky coat of white, allowing for some of the raw wood to show through.
It was back-breaking work and took me the better part of three days, but the missus was delighted with the result.
I am no spring chicken, but I spent the next few days of my enforced leave hobbling around like a 90-year-old with arthritis. Some muscles had gone into spasm, and I was convinced the condition was probably terminal.
Working from home to help bring out this newspaper is taxing.
The days are long and there are intermittent system or internet problems. But I would choose a 10-hour day bashing away at a laptop anytime ahead of repainting kitchen cabinets.
The fact that technology enables us to still do our job from home, including attending online meetings, is fantastic.
I wish we weren’t so spoilt for choice!