Power

Yesterday (26 December 2006) we had a power outage. Yesterday we had an MCI . . . a mass casualty incident. It was supposed to be the day for the drill -- the MCI Drill. But at 9:00 a.m. a heat exchanger blew off its pipe and all the glycol from the waste heat loop (like 800 gallons worth) sprayed all over the power plant. And it didn't just spray. It vaporized.

We lost power. And our drill was real.

It took a good long time to get the emergency power plant going and even then the only buildings it was heating were the new station and the power plant. All the out buildings, all the science buildings, stayed cold for over 6 hours while they cleaned up the mess and tried to get another engine on line.

Six people were sent to medical (three on stretchers) for fume inhalation.

More than two people injured at a time maxes out our clinic's capabilities and we officially have "mass casualty."

We had to muster people. We had to wake up the night shifters who were sleeping in the jamesways because the buildings were going cold and we had to get them inside. We called Washington. We were pulling people out of the community to go stand at the skiway to prevent people from crossing when the planes were landing because the beacons run on electricity. UPS units failed and smoked. The emergency power plant overheated and we lost power again. The kitchen served sandwich fixings for lunch and dinner. Comms went down hard, twice.

I have never seen anything like it at Pole.

And I noticed several interesting things . . . .

(This is the big "Duh" one . . . ) When in emergency, most people do better when they have something to do and when they know what's going on. The folks who were just mustered in the galley started getting very irritable. Waiting is an agony.

Never task a physicist to do something quickly. They will skull-fuck "get a thermos and make something hot to drink" for over 15 minutes and still not produce tea.

The night shifters bitched about being woken up and thought they should be left to sleep in the cold. That bitching illustrated their assumption that eventually everything would be fine. When we woke them up, we didn't think everything was going to be fine. We had three people in Bio Med, no power and no hope for power for several hours. We didn't see the end just yet. Planes were holding in McMurdo, waiting for instructions. We needed to know where everyone was. We needed to gather them in case we started evacuating.

When the first alarm went, we stood and listened. We get so many false alarms, and many folks knew the drill was scheduled for that day . . . more people than not thought it was a drill for about ½ hour into it. One of the doctors receiving his first patient took the oxygen off him because he didn't want to waste it on a drill. Shock waves went through people as they realized this was actually happening -- patient after patient were coming up the stairs. Fumes were billowing out of the power plant and we had no power.

And after that initial shock wave -- we suspended. Every muscle tensed and we just waited for the next thing, and dealt with it. And accepted the next thing, and dealt with it. And in tiny moments, our Director would allow herself to think ahead and she would tell us to do something and we dealt with it. And that's how the day went. (Can I just say here that BK is really fucking smart).

By about 2:00 p.m. my back started hurting and I realized how my whole body was tight like a spring ready to sprung. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't projecting. I didn't care who the patients were. I just did what I was directed to do and did it fast and efficiently and staged myself to receive the next order.

And the weird thing was . . . there was almost a casualness about it. We knew . . . all of us knew . . . that eventually . . . . well . . . something would happen. So many people seemed so blasé. They were just out of the loop and waiting . . . for someone to make them comfortable again. The majority of the station didn't realize how bad things were and how many folks were working to keep them alive. Mostly . . . they seemed inconvenienced.

There are those who have worked 48 + hours to make sure we are all warm. I am not one of those people. But, I know them.

There are those who were there when the pipe blew. I am not one of those people. But I am so grateful to tell you right now, I still know them.

Had the pipe blown the other way . . . Had Scotty not realized what was about to happen and moved his crew . . . had the weather not been good . . . had there not been drills before this . . . had the IC not realized people needed to be on respirators . . . had the doctor not known . . . had . . . had . . . had.

This is, and always will be, an amazing place. The majority of the place rallied . . . in one way or the other. They either pitched in or got out of the way.

And the sucky bit? Well, that more here didn't realize how close we were . . . how horrible this was and could have ended, if not for the heroic efforts of the heroes involved.

Goddess of Wonderment, bless Scotty . . . who knew enough to move his crew. Bless JoeJoe for going on oxygen and working for hours in fumes to restore power. Bless Liesl, who started the emergency power plant. Bless the six who were treated. Bless the teams who lugged them up the stairs. Bless the IT guys who kept the radios working. Bless the IceCube management who stood ready to do anything we needed because they understood. Bless the few, who are privately weeping and GETTING IT tonight, as they reflect how close we are . . .

. . . and how close we were.

Empty

I found this post in my blog composition file . . . can't remember the date of the party.

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Recently, I was invited to a surprise birthday party for a man turning 60. He actually doesn't have his birthday until April, but folks here in this far away land wanted to celebrate him. Needless to say . . . 6 months early . . . he was surprised.

The party was held in the cargo jamesway . . . the Do Not Freeze (DNF) Jamesway. While standing around drinking, we started to play with the cargo stickers. There were things like "Do Note Freeze", "Fragile", "This End Up", and "Over Packed", but there was also one that suited me just fine . . .

It was really minimalist . . . white background . . . black text. It's perfectly square. And all it says is . . .

"Empty"

I put it over my heart (soul?) and wore it around all night.

"Empty"

Fuck, yeah.

It was classic.

Lounge Memo

Here's another memo . . . Strange job, this.

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Public vs. Private


Public: of, pertaining to, or affecting a population or a community as a whole.

Private: belonging to some particular person: private property.


Lounges and hallways are public spaces . . . which means they pertain to and affect the whole population. Like the weights and the guitars that came before them . . . lounges and hallways are for everyone!

Whereas your bedroom is your private space . . . the place where your stuff is kept and, more importantly, the place where you should be sleeping.

Lunch-naps aside, lounges are NOT the place to spend your night. We have folks trying to have leisure time around the clock, and your sorry self sprawled all over the couch, drooling your dreams away, is rude.

Get up and take the long walk home.

Fresh air is good for you!

Little Bits of Joy

Last night I had a little bit of joy. It started with the Manager Cook Day. We made the pizza for dinner. What I've found around here is that if you have a task to do with a bunch of people, eventually everyone ends up laughing. These are funny folks. I was in charge of putting sauce on all 80 pizzas. It took about an hour and a half. I was working with the logistics manager, the winter site manager, the HR guy, the waste supervisor, the comms supervisor . . . and we just listened to loud music, worked hard and laughed. It was fun.

After I got done with that, I went over to the carp shop foreman's room and drank beer with boys. I love boys. The super sexy carpenter was there. As the afternoon progressed, the girls showed up as well, and I didn't feel like a dork and I didn't feel like anyone was being uncomfortable because of me. I actually felt very welcome . . . and it was fun. I totally skipped dinner, which turned out ok.

At 7:45 p.m. we all went up to bingo in the galley. The place was packed with people. I've never seen so many people there for bingo. I dropped off my beer at the table of carp shop folks, and got in line to buy cards. There were probably 80 people there. The place was quivering with excitement, and loud voices and lots of alcohol. Lots of drinking. I sat next to a nice guy from IceCube. We cheered for the winners and laughed and heckled. One of the cooks came around with a huge bowl of popcorn for everyone . . . best popcorn I have ever tasted.

During the night I would look up from my cards and watch. Everyone there was laughing. The whole room was laughing. Not self conscious. Not forcing fun. Just honestly and privately having a great time. This large collection of groups, each with their own, laughing and playing bingo, and kindly heckling each other. Down at the far end of the room, by the dish pit, stood one of the NSF design team guys and the station director . . . just watching the crowd . . . and they were laughing, too. It was quite a scene.

After the games were over, folks stayed around and talked and laughed some more. At one point one of the dining attendants was up on a table, wiggling away, to which the sexy carpenter responded . . . he climbed up on our table and started table dancing right back at her. It was so light hearted and joyful, it wasn't creepy. Just big and happy and harmless.

When I left to go the bathroom, I realized how drunk I was and just headed home to bed. I guess I missed the real dance party of it. But that's ok. The little bit of joy I had was enough to make me not feel all that hung over today.