Deadhorse Diary 2005

I once again had the opportunity to participate as an observer in the annual Bowhead Whale Aerial Survey Project, known as BWASP, that takes place for several weeks every Autumn in the Beaufort Sea and Arctic Ocean. This year I kept a journal of my experiences during the twelve days in late September and early 2005 that I was on the project.

Rather than describe the project in detail, I will refer you to the website that has additional information on the project: http://www.mms.gov/alaska/kids/shorts/bwasp/bwasp.htm

Alaska Airlines flight from Anchorage. The plane, a Boeing 737-200C, is a cargo transporter and passenger plane. They configure the airplane depending on the mix of cargo and passengers by moving the bulkhead forward or aft and removing or adding seats. The plane was set up to carry about 23 passengers. The weather was overcast and cold. It didn't look like the area had gotten much snow yet. The temperature was right around 32 degrees but the wind chill made it feel colder. The wind chill factor is a number that is widely reported and highly regarded in Alaska. It answers the question "how really cold is cold"; we get to feel a little more hearty because of the wind chill factor.

I was met at the terminal by the current team leader. He was dropping off the person who records the data in flight and who is returning to Anchorage on the completion of his tour. My tour is going to be over on October 6. Our conversation indicated that the flights had been grounded for several days due to weather conditions. When we are not flying, it is very easy to get cabin fever and go stir crazy. Even with the laptop computer and the briefcase full of work that I have brought along in anticipation of downtime will only be a temporary diversion from the inevitable boredom that will set in from being confined to the work camp hotel. Prudhoe Bay is essentially a big oil and gas industrial park with not much to do outside of going to work and going back to the camp.

From the terminal we drive the short distance to the hangar that serves as our base of operations. As we leave the truck, the team leader points out the bear scat (a nice word for piles of poop) all over the ground just inside of the airport fence. A bear has taken up residence under one of the buildings (all structures up here are elevated off the permafrost to prevent thawing and settling of the buildings) and we have been cautioned to be alert when moving from the hangar to our truck. So do bears crap in the woods? Yes they do, but this being the tundra, there are no woods in which for them to crap.
	Once inside the hangar, I am fitted for an exposure or survival suit and life preserver that we wear for all flights. The bright orange jumpsuit is worn over a polar fleece garment. The suit has latex seals at the wrist and neck that make the suit waterproof when it is fully zipped up. The suits are necessary in the event that we forced down in the Arctic Ocean, a highly unlikely event but one we need to be ready for just in case it does happen. The airplane, a modified twin Otter, carries a life raft and other survival equipment, so we are well prepared for any contingency. In this jumpsuit, I must look like a pumpkin on steroids, just like the oversized vegetables we see at the Alaska State Fair every year.
The team leader also gives me a safety and operational briefing. Not much has changed since I flew the survey two years ago. The airplane has been modified with a large internal fuel tank, bubble windows for the observer and team leader, and a computer station for the data recorder. The plane is flown by a crew of two pilots. In its present configuration the airplane has a RESTRICTED classification from the Federal Aviation Administration, meaning it can only be used for the survey.

When the survey is over, the modifications will be removed and the airplane will be returned to regular airline service in Alaska. The Otter is a fine airplane that has a well earned reputation for being very reliable. It is a workhorse in the North and just about anywhere where flight involves flying in wild terrain in and out of short, unimproved airstrips.

After we are done at the hangar, we head to our quarters, the Service Area 10 hotel, what I call the "camp", a structure of prefabricated buildings (think manufactured housing) that have been joined together to make a two-storey residential unit.