Only a select few ever make it to the South  Pole. Still fewer get to blow things up there. And only one man has the  distinction of blowing up a piece of real estate at the South Pole that  he once called home.
"It was a little sad, but the day goes on,"  said John Rand, a consulting engineer with the U.S. Army's Cold Regions  Research and Engineering Laboratory (CRREL).
In the decades since it was constructed in  the mid 1950s, the long-abandoned outpost was swallowed up by the  ever-shifting snows of the frozen continent. And, after a frightening  accident, the original South Pole station had to go.
Even then, the station was 15 or 20 feet  (4.5 or 6 meters) below the surface. Chambers called top hats — giant  boxes with roughly the same dimensions as the station's identical  buildings — had been stacked atop the structures to keep their roofs  above the snow, which tends to compact and thus sink under a building  while snow blows in and piles up around it.
"In essence, the terrain is rising," said  George L. Blaisdell, operations manager for the National Science  Foundation's U.S. Antarctic Program, who explained that the physics at  work at the South Pole makes building there difficult. "The elevation at  the South Pole hasn't changed in the last 50 years," Blaisdell told  OurAmazingPlanet, "but if you put something on the surface and came back  a year later, it would be further down in the snowpack."
That's precisely what happened to the old  South Pole station. By the time Rand helped blow the station up in  December, it was 30 feet (9 meters) below the surface. However, the  long-abandoned station once played a pivotal role in scientific and  world history.
First in, never out
The original station was a no-frills  military affair — essentially a series of glorified boxes made from  sturdy wooden beams and plywood. The research base was built by the  Seabees, the Navy's construction unit; building on the structure began  in late 1956 and the station was dedicated in January 1957.
The project stemmed from the International  Geophysical Year (IGY), an 18-month period of coordinated scientific  endeavor from July 1957 to December 1958, when countries including the 
United States,  the then Soviet Union and several European nations sent thousands of  researchers out into the wild and little-explored regions of the planet  to push the boundaries of Earth science.
The Americans christened the base the  Amundsen-Scott IGY South Pole Station, to honor the only other humans to  ever set foot at the Pole ahead of the seminal construction. People had  first and last been to the Pole nearly five decades earlier in 1911,  during the famed race that pitted Norwegian explorer Roald Amundsen  against doomed Englishman Robert Falcon Scott. (Amundsen won the race,  and Scott died on the return journey from the pole.) [Related: 
In Images – Race for the South Pole.]
At the conclusion of the IGY, when the time  came to pack up and go home, the Americans decided to stay put in their  little station at 90 degrees south latitude. Not only was great science  happening at the South Pole, but a permanent U.S. station at the literal  convergence of the planet's longitude lines had enormous strategic  value.
"The U.S. felt that by being at the  geographic South Pole, we would have something of a claim, if you will,"  Blaisdell said, "and having been there longer than anyone else, be able  to put pressure on other people trying to divvy up Antarctica."
The Americans' extended stay in Antarctica  and at the Pole was one of several geopolitical circumstances that paved  the way for the 
Antarctic Treaty,  signed in 1959 — the world's first nuclear arms agreement and a  milestone international decision to leave the frozen continent free of  territorial claims by any country. The treaty is still in force today.
Danger zone
The original Amundsen-Scott station was  largely abandoned in 1974 for a newer station nearby, constructed under a  dome. That station, in turn, was recently abandoned for a brand new  Amundsen-Scott facility, dedicated in 2008 — a gleaming construction  perched atop 36 stilts that can be ratcheted higher when the snow begins  to encroach.
Rand said the original station, invisible  beneath the snow, was marked out on the surface by flags that covered an  area about 150 by 300 to 400 feet (45 by 90 to 120 meters). To prepare  to demolish the station, Rand and his colleagues drilled a warren of  holes down to the topmost level of the buried station and threaded  dynamite down into the snow.
Over the course of three days in early  December, the charges were detonated, collapsing the roof of the station  and creating a large crater in the snow. Rand said it was with mixed  emotions that he watched the explosions shoot snow high into the air.
"It was truly the end of that station. The  year before it was intact and now it's put to bed," Rand said. However,  he said, it had to be done. The area was dangerous.
A year earlier, despite the visible network  of flags marking the perimeter of the site, a giant tractor somehow  ended up atop the former station. The snow collapsed beneath the weight  of the massive machine, which crashed through the top roof of the old  station.
The driver wasn't hurt, but ended up at the  bottom of a 30-foot (9-m) hole. He was quickly retrieved by crews on  harnesses, but getting the tractor out proved to be tricky.
The accident was a wake-up call, according to Blaisdell and Rand, and the wheels were put in motion to remove the danger.
"A year before a friend almost got hurt badly, and we needed to solve that problem," Rand said. "And that's what we did."
The giant crater that remains where the  station once stood has already begun to fill up with snow, and Blaisdell  said the area would be safe for new construction soon, perhaps as early  as 2013.
With its high altitude, dry conditions and extreme vantage point, the South Pole offers some of the 
best observing conditions on Earth, and the newly opened-up real estate is highly coveted among scientists brimming with ideas.
 
No comments:
Post a Comment