Federal agency based at SPAWAR guides far-flung pilots

It’s a fair bet penguins don’t pop up as an issue in most Lowcountry workplaces.

An exception would be the air traffic controllers who watch over the frigid runways of Antarctica from a far-flung outpost in North Charleston. They speak delicately about the penguin problem.

From a low-key perch on the Naval Weapons Station, workers at the Office of Polar Programs help safely guide aircraft thousands of miles away that traverse the skies above the world’s most desolate continent.

Though the space has few daily flights, the locally based unit provides crucial information and guidance to pilots who must fly into unforgiving winds and navigate other abnormally harsh weather conditions.

But on occasion, the focus on assisting air crews, who are usually ferrying researchers or hauling supplies to the South Pole Station, is disrupted by gathering clusters of indigenous penguins.

On their home turf, it seems, these flightless birds have no regard for flight safety.

“One of the biggest problems we have is penguins walking out onto the air field,” said program director Mike Peebles.

It’s just one of the daily challenges for an expanding government agency that’s charged with working in and around one of the most extreme environments on the planet.

On the ice

The Office of Polar Programs is an arm of the federal National Science Foundation. Peebles’ office operates from a windowless building within the Space and Naval Warfare System Center Atlantic’s secured, chain-linked borders.

Inside, he and his crew toil amid a glowing backdrop of two wall-projected screens: One illustrates the flight paths that crisscross in straight lines over Antarctica. The other shows the radar-based weather pattern, helping the office monitor conditions and develop forecasts.

The atmosphere is dark and subdued. Crackling with static, a voice from a distant cockpit breaks the silence as a newly airborne crew checks in to report their progress. The aircraft had taken off from McMurdo Station, a permanent U.S. research center on Ross Island. It looks like a dusty mining town when it’s not covered in snow.

With the help of technology, the air traffic control side of the program has gradually been able to accomplish more and save the government more from North Charleston as opposed to paying to shuttle personnel in and out of Antarctica. U.S. Navy officials first moved part of the polar operation locally in 1986, and more functions have gradually relocated to the region.

SPAWAR’s top local military officer, Navy Capt. Bruce Urbon said he spent a week “on the ice” three years ago to learn more about the operations there. He said the program is a departure from the high-tech engineering projects that Systems Center Atlantic primarily focuses on.

“It’s more a way to support the research community,” Urbon said.

Beyond control

The polar program has shifted from an operation run entirely by Navy sailors and officers into a more cost-effective mix that taps both military personnel and civilian employees.

Guiding airplanes is just part of the responsibilities in North Charleston.

The SPAWAR office deploys about 200 workers to Antarctica throughout the year, mostly to maintain the meteorology gear and air traffic control equipment. Many of them live in the local area.

“It is not unusual for these technicians to have to deploy or repair equipment located on the top of Mount Erebus above 10,000 feet in howling winds with temperatures minus 40 and below,” Peebles said, referring to a nearby volcano.

The deployed crews have their own lingo. For example, pounding snowstorms with winds that top 100 miles per hour are called “Herbies.” None of the meteorologists who have been there recall ever seeing a rainbow, as Antarctica’s frigid air doesn’t hold moisture very well. Even the snow falls in pellet form because the water droplets are too cold to form conventional flakes.

A skeleton crew of just four stays for the harshest months.

The list of tasks the local polar office is called on to handle runs the gamut. Some of the workers help dig out a portion of Antarctica’s roughly 100 weather stations after big snowstorms. Others find ways to get around fog, which makes communication tricky.

Still others tend to weather equipment that must operate in harsh and rapidly changing conditions. A weather station, for example, can be 100 miles “inland” until the ice thaws during summer months, suddenly exposing it to coastal conditions.

One team was recently trying to find a fix for temporary satellite blackouts that prevent McMurdo Station from communicating with the South Pole Station, which are separated by 800 miles.

Life or death
The air traffic operation at McMurdo has its own circular glass-enclosed control tower that offers panoramic views of an endless white landscape.

Most inbound planes arrive at the U.S. research center after a five-hour flight from New Zealand, which is about 2,500 miles to the north. No commercial service is offered, but adventure seekers and independent researchers can sometimes negotiate rides on government flights.

With the help of their counterparts in North Charleston, Antarctica-based controllers use the locally provided weather information to make a crucial decision for incoming flights: Can the pilots land safely in the current conditions? Or should they turn around? Sometimes there are no options, as smaller planes might not have enough fuel to go back.

Fortunately, dangerous white-out approaches are uncommon. The most recent blind landing that crew members could recall happened a decade ago.

But the crew members in North Charleston still seem to watch the glowing screens with a sense of urgency.

“It’s one of the only places in the world where you’re flying aircraft in a life-or-death situation,” said SPAWAR-based meteorologist Arthur Cayette.