William J. Clancey — Returning to Base Camp HMP-2001

July
18, 2001

Wednesday morning

We
arrived back in base camp at 10pm after a glorious ride through
the sunny night. The snow patches have largely receded. We managed
to cross the Percival Lowell Canal on our ATVs at our ‘normal’
place for the first time this year, though it was rushing a bit
and still a foot deep in places. Four of us came into camp, Pascal
leading with the big trailer, then Charlie, Katy, and me. We crossed
over some snow with glistening ice, which is fun on the ATVs.
The 15 minute ride felt like a grand journey–broad unbounded
expanses of rock and snow around us, a fully illuminated cloudless
sky, the drone of our engines, and no one else in sight.

Arriving
back in camp, it looked like a summer camp–chairs and lounges
were out where people had evidently been enjoying the afternoon.
Discovery people were standing around the ATVs eating chocolate
cookies and sipping tea. All was bright sun and light winds. We
shuffled our gear over to the personal tent area with the ATVs.
I had a long conversation with Mark Webb (the camp cook) about
our experience, then greeted Marco (Pascal’s "ghost double"
brother) who’s now our expedition MD. I met him in ’99 and was
happy to see him again. It was 0030 before I pulled my bags into
the tent. All was dry except for some condensation under my pads
from the still frozen ground below the tent floor. As I rearranged
things (finally setting up my chair), I chuckled at how I filled
this four person tent, this combination bedroom, office and storage
shed.

The
snow is gone from around camp and dust is forming. The ravine
between base and the personal areas was full of ice and snow 10
days ago, but now just has a narrow stream. Below my tent 20 yards
away is a more substantial creek, which makes a pleasant sound.
I placed my tent on the extreme edge of the terrace, so nothing
lies between me and Resolute 110 miles away. The sight of craggy
outcroppings and snow cirques towards the southwest is stunning
at midnight–all is deep brown and bright white with sharp blue
skies above. This morning it was warm enough (48 degrees F) to
wear only a long undershirt and flannel shirt to breakfast, though
I had to laugh at carrying my increasingly filled yellow pad out
of my tent to breakfast. What kind of camping trip is this?

The
camp improvements are amazing. The shower is done, a full stall
with a wild shower curtain and wooden floor, storage areas, drain,
etc., even a lock on the door with an "occupied" sign
in bright orange. With perhaps four more years to go in this expedition,
the camp is finally getting established. The kitchen area is equally
surprising– huge bright cans full of utensils, a new place under
the counter to put dirty dishes, a sink to rinse off our plates
with running water. For breakfast I had a toasted bagel with honey,
the first bread in a week.

This
morning I’m back in the work tent, sitting next to Charlie, near
the door. The door is wide open and creaking back and forth in
the light breeze, but we let it go–it gives a humorous charm
to the morning. One of the dogs is barking with a friendly howl,
like a wolf, probably he’s just gotten his breakfast.

Miles
O’Brien (science reporter for CNN) is outside talking to Pascal–"Pascal,
Pascal, a quick sidebar…" Most likely they’re planning
the helicopter trip. We’ll run excursions from about 11am to 6pm.
Two fisherman (Mark from Gilroy and Samson from Pond Inlet) will
be dropped off for a day at a lake, hoping to bring in some Arctic
char for dinner. Charlie and I will go off with Pascal at 1330
until about 1600, heading to the gullies to the north and Devon’s
coast. The doors of the helicopter will be open for CNN, so I
should get some good video (one doesn’t mind being scrunched in
the middle seat on such trips).

I
have almost a full week here, which has a chance of being good
weather. Every year we have had a run of 7-10 days (and nights)
of continuous sunshine, perhaps this is the start. I now understand
why the kids in Resolute play baseball at 3am on a sunny night.
These are very special days for them. All winter it is dark and
they are cold. On nights like last night, they can be outdoors
and warm (relatively), and have a good time. It looked strange
at first, but when you are awake at midnight and have the bright
sun in your face, you feel the same way.

The
Inuit are perhaps the most friendly people I have met in the world.
As I walked around last night, I was greeted by young Matthew,
"Hello, Bill, " he said softly and kindly. The first
time he said this ten days ago, I felt embarrassed for I recognized
him from last year, but couldn’t remember his name. Sam Burbank
says that in Resolute we are all heroes to the kids.

Sam
left yesterday; we saw each other a few times in the hab. He filmed
us yesterday as three of our hab crew suited up for a final EVA.
We were cutting up all the time, with Charlie leading us in "Ack,
Ack, Ack" (the chant from the movie Mars Attacks), followed
by a mixture of accents ("You WILL don the helmet!")
and Monty Python songs. Sam captured this on film and it will
be hilarious when we get home (I hope to arrange a BBQ reunion
during the Mars Society convention in late August).

As
we came out of the hab last night, Discovery filmed our first
impressions back on Earth. Oddly enough, you get used to having
a huge camera pointed at you (look directly into the lens), a
sound boom overhead, and a guy looking over the cameraman’s shoulder
prompting you. "Bill, did your group get along well?"
(Remember to repeat the question when you answer.) I always say
what I feel is true, but like everyone else, I prefer to give
the story a positive, upbeat spin. We save the details and subtleties
for our publications. But the media got the dirt on us the other
day, when we were stuck in the mud. I expect I’ll be in Discovery’s
story, but possibly only for two or three short bits. Often you
give an interview and walk away wondering, were any sound bites
just right? When did the interviewer and cameraman smile, and
when did you say something correct, but it didn’t fit their unfolding
story? For example, when asked about our teammates on leaving
the hab, I said we already missed Vladimir who left yesterday
afternoon. They appeared slightly crestfallen; then I realized
this fact didn’t fit their simple story, "Crew exits the
hab together." So that remark probably won’t make the final
film.

At
my request, I’ll get a copy of Discovery’s video with sound of
our "stuck in the mud" episode (the suited EVA from
the hab on July 16). I want to analyze it for communication and
coordination in an "emergency" situation. Now that I’m
back in camp, I feel like I’m part of the filming and storytelling
process, which is more fun than just being a subject for the cameras.
When I drove in last night, Rick came out of the Discovery tent
and energetically introduced himself and shook my hand, "I’ve
been looking at you all week," he said. Each day they review
and edit the tapes and redirect the ongoing coverage. There will
be an immense amount of tape–two years of the HMP expedition,
including 20 people in the hab this year. I’m glad to have had
the opportunity in the past week to show how scientists document
and model life and work in the hab, and to explain why this will
be essential for Mars mission design, crew scheduling, public
relations, and training.

Over
the radio I now hear Base Camp’s interactions with the hab. Bob
Zubrin is being told that CNN wants to film a live "motorized
EVA" tomorrow. Bob is excited about this, for promotion to
inform and excite the public is the Mars Society’s first objective
in building the hab: "We are launching a movement."

Now
Pascal is on the sat phone giving an interview. It’s 10am and
time to get my own work under way.