One of the highlights of this journey has been our trip to the Chilean O’Higgins Base on the Antarctic Peninsula. We were able to go there on a whim, and the experience was fascinating and memorable.

Patricio was telling Stan the cameraman about different flights that were scheduled to come in and out of King George in the coming weeks. We had mentioned our desire to get to other locations, so through a combination of Stan, Patricio, yes even Captain Copepod , Eric from the airport and Col. Mejias, we found ourselves on the manifest to fly to the Peninsula on the Twin Otter the next day. Notice I had nothing to do with this, I was just a lucky passenger with no organizational involvement, proving once again that Stan really is the hero of this adventure. Hopefully he thinks I make a good sidekick!

As we were getting onboard the plane, a pilot came to me and said casually, “We will land three times… maybe four.” I made note of the comment not really fully understanding the meaning, but this is a very important part of the story.

We loaded the tiny plane, very tight quarters I must say, and soon we were buzzing off the end of the airstrip at King George and flying to the Antarctic Peninsula. The flight took about two hours or so and the view was simply stunning. Giant icebergs, towering out of the ocean were perfectly white with the exception of a few spots of aquamarine blue as light refracted off of the cracks. Where the ice meets the water, an electric blue ring surrounded each floating giant. Waves crashed against these vessels as they made their way through the ocean, sometimes you could see a wake left behind them indicating which direction they were moving and just how massive the water displacement was for each one. The icebergs were beautiful and you couldn’t help but imagine just how powerful they were. I mean, one of these babies sank the Titanic. And they move around the sea, dredging the ocean bottom, churning up everything, destroying everything in their path, creating an environment for life to spring anew. It is an impressive cycle!

Approaching the continent was just as stunning; a massive and pristine ice shelf covered most of the land. In some places, as we flew over, you could see where giant cracks were forming and gravity was beginning the process of crashing these chunks down into the sea where they would have a newfound existence as fledgling icebergs off to make it on their own in the big open sea.

Iceberg right ahead!

Hoth from above!

Looking out the window I caught a glimpse of a small receiving team, of sorts, in the form of a few snowmobiles racing across the ice to meet us, and to create a visual reference as a runway. With nothing but flat, white ice as a guide, the pilots needed something to help give them a sense of depth perception. In this case one of the valiant snowmobile riders was riding ahead of the plane planting large red flags every ten meters or so. This way the pilots knew the direction of the wind and had a relatively straight pathway to use as a runway.

Through this entire process, the Twin Otter was making very tight circles around the landing area at very low altitudes to check out the conditions. I have been on many crazy flights in my life, including landing on an aircraft carrier, flying with the NOAA Hurricane Hunters and even with the “Fat Albert” crew of the USN Blue Angels, and this, I must say was some of the craziest flying I have ever experienced outside of a professional aerobatic plane.

When the pilot decided he was ready to touch down he made a wider approach so he could get a better alignment for the landing process. And with full power on, we touched down on the Antarctic Peninsula, but never came to a stop. Instead, the pilot kept the skids on the ice as long as possible. If you have ever flown before, think of the initial shudder of a plane when it lands, then extend that feeling and shaking sensation over the course of about a minute and a half. Honestly, I wasn’t paying attention to exactly how long our skids were actually in contact with the ice, I was caught up in the adrenalin rush of it all.

Just as the plane looked and felt as if it were to drop off the edge of the ice shelf and plunge into the frigid sea below, the pilot pulled up at a strong harsh angle, tipping his wing to the ground to make another pass. That was the first of three ”landings” that the pilot had warned me about. Stan and I looked at each other with sort of an, “Again, Again!!!” type of an attitude. Though this may just seem plain crazy, there is actually reason for this method of landing.

The first pass has two purposes, to give the pilot an actual visual runway to use when he attempts the final landing and to check the ice surface for cracks and holes. The snow and ice can be very deceptive because the wind can make it look flat, smooth and straight when in reality, the weight of a plane would create a sinkhole of sorts that could be deadly. The second pass is to apply a bit more pressure and to further pack down the snow to make a more complete and sturdy runway – this process could be repeated a few times at the pilots discretion.

Finally, once, and only once the pilot has made a few prudent test runs does he ever set the plane down completely. It is a brilliant technique, but unfortunately one I am sure that was born out of necessity.

The "airport"

After getting out of the aircraft after what amounted to be an amazing rollercoaster-like experience, we were greeted by the small complement of snowmobiles which were making quick work of unloading gear and supplies to take down the icy slope to the base. We were each assigned a snowmobile and a “handler” who was responsible for getting us to O’Higgins safely. After a very short time at the “airport” we were dashing across the ice, in yet another adrenalin rush experience.

On the main continent, view of O'Higgins base in the distance

Ice shelf… we had just been snowmobiling on top of that spot

Soon the O’Higgins Base appeared over the blinding white horizon to reveal a picture perfect balance of this tiny orange facility juxtaposed against a piercing blue water backdrop with the shock white ice in the foreground—simply stunning. At the bottom of the glacier, where the ice met the rock, we were greeted by a couple of lazy fur seals, one decided that we were too annoying and scuttled off into the water, while the other just couldn’t really be bothered by us, turned its back and went back to sleep.

Getting to the O’Higgins Base itself is quite interesting because it is situated on a small rock island separate from the base of the glacier and you have only two choices: either wait for a zodiac to take you across, or take your chances on a makeshift wire “bridge.” Stan and I are brave, but not crazy… we took the zodiac.

Crossing to O'Higgins base

This man is crazy! But this is how you get to O'higgens base without a zodiac

Unfortunately our time at O’Higgins was limited to about an hour-and-a-half or so, but the place is beautiful, interesting and stunning as it is isolated from everything else in the world. There is also a penguin colony on the base grounds. This is where we played with penguins and got to see some very cute and fuzzy baby chicks. This is also where I got to “interview” a penguin, and if you want to hear what the penguin had to say, it is one of our special reports from Antarctica coming up soon on RT, keep tuned! (Yup, another shameless tease, but what can I say; this business has the process ingrained in my very being!) But more than playing with the very interactive penguins at O’Higgins, we were able to get a tour of the facility and were also hosted in the officer’s dining area for a cup of coffee with the chief of the base and the second in command.

The seal was guarding the path for us!

The summer crew was hard at work doing construction and making repairs. The “summer season” is a very active time in Antarctica. Not only do scientists, researchers and students come to the continent to do their work, but the bases themselves get full makeovers after being battered through the winter.

The reason our time was so short at O’Higgins was of course weather-related. We were informed by the pilot that a system may be moving in near King George Island and he wanted to get back as soon as possible to avoid any unnecessary troubles. So we began our trek back to the makeshift airstrip on top of the ice shelf. In the process of saying goodbye to the penguin colony we witnessed a suspicious leopard seal lurking in the waters nearby.

On the snowmobile back to the airplane I realized why this whole scenario felt familiar. If you will indulge my inner-geek for a brief moment, I was certain that I was on planet Hoth from the Star Wars movie The Empire Strikes Back! Seriously, the snowmobiles were the snow speeders, and even the drivers were clad in sci-fi style garb. The pilots’ uniforms for the Twin Otter were bright, fluorescent orange, very similar to the pilot uniforms for the x-wing fighters. I was certain that if I looked closely enough I could spot a Taun-Taun or the Wampa ice creature in the distance, or worse, an arsenal of Imperial AT-AT walkers coming to destroy our rebel base. OK, I have gone on about this long enough, but if you have an appreciation for the Star Wars movies you would understand.

Taking off from the airstrip was fun as the pilot circled the group once more, made a very low fly-over and wiggled his wings in sort of a "thank you" salute to his colleagues on the ground. We made it back over the cool blue waters and parade of icebergs to the Frei Base airstrip on King George Island just in time for lunch.

More than just a quick trip to the peninsula, our sojourn to the O’Higgins Base was a detailed look into how these remote locations operate. How they get supplies and how they have this process down to a science. I had the opportunity to ask the second in command about the organizational logistics of such operations and he downplayed any difficulties. He said the main trick was dealing with the large quantities needed to sustain prolonged isolation and then working around the weather to make things happen. I appreciated the Chilean Air Force and their willingness to allow us to document such an adventure. I also appreciate the pilots who did an amazing job at flying in unique circumstances. I have mentioned this before, but the Twin Otter that took us on this journey had an incident on its very next flight. On takeoff, the engine blew! I am glad that it decided to wait until Stan and I were safely on the ground!

The statements, views and opinions expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of RT.