When the Last Plane Leaves: Nine Months in the Service of Science at Concordia Station, Antarctica

Nine months of total isolation at Concordia Station, Antarctica

By Gabriele Carugati, Station Leader at Concordia, deep in the East Antarctic Plateau

I watch the Basler take off and keep following it until it disappears from sight. Then I turn around and walk back towards the station, and at that exact moment I really understand what isolation means.

From that moment on, for about nine months, no new people or supplies will arrive at Concordia. What we have available is what we will use. This is my account, as Station Leader of one of the most isolated places on the planet, of what it actually takes to live, work, and lead through a winter over in the heart of the Antarctic interior, in service of science that could hardly be carried out anywhere else in the world.

Who I am

I am Italian, 46 years old, and come from a small village between Como and Milan. I hold a PhD in Chemical Sciences and, outside Antarctica, I work as the Technical Manager of research laboratories dedicated to materials characterization at a university in northern Italy.

My path to Concordia started with a very strong curiosity about what I didn't know. As a boy, I spent hours watching documentaries about the most remote places on the planet, and Antarctica always had a particular fascination for me. I didn't expect, however, to be given the responsibility of coordinating a remote research station from my very first mission. When I was asked whether I would take on the role of Station Leader, I accepted immediately.

Being Station Leader, before any operational responsibility, means learning to observe and understand the people I am going to spend thirteen months with on the ice. I need to understand who is in front of me, how they communicate, how they work, what their strengths are, and how they can contribute to the group.

The moment isolation becomes real

The departure of the last flight is one of the most symbolic moments of the entire mission. From that point on, for about nine months, it's just us. Whatever problem arises will have to be dealt with using the resources, training, experience and adaptability of the group present at the station.

It is a strange feeling, because I feel incredibly strong and fragile at the same time. Strong because I know I am part of a team prepared to face that environment. Fragile because I immediately understand how much our presence here depends on the infrastructure around us and on our ability to keep it operational. Antarctica is not an environment made for us. We are the ones who have to adapt to it, and it reminds us of that every day.

Keeping a station alive, with no backup

During the winter, Concordia becomes a small, self contained world. There is no backup station. Every system that makes it possible to live and work here has to be continuously monitored, maintained and managed by a community of just twelve people, each with specific responsibilities that inevitably blur when someone needs a hand.

When something does go wrong, equipment failure, a medical emergency, during much of the winter the environmental conditions make it impossible to rely on immediate assistance from outside. The basic principle is very simple: we have to find a solution with what we have. Preparation, prevention, training, professional skills and redundancy become essential. But equally important is the ability of the group to adapt and work together.

Leading twelve professionals through that kind of isolation is not something that can be done by micromanaging. I have to be able to trust people. And they have to be able to trust me. Communication is fundamental, and so is knowing the team well enough to notice when someone might need to talk, to be listened to, or simply to have some space.

Working at −80°C

Operating at extreme cold changes the very concept of work. Tasks that would be simple under normal conditions take much longer, mobility and visibility are reduced, and time spent continuously outside has to be limited and interrupted by periods of recovery in a warm environment. Add wind to the equation, and physical stress, cold perception and pain increase dramatically.

There is also a psychological aspect that is difficult to describe. When the cold really starts taking over, my body and my mind remind me very clearly that the priority is no longer finishing the job. The priority is protecting myself.

The most extreme moment I have faced at Concordia was during activities carried out outside during the polar night, knowing before even stepping out that the job would not be a short one and would require several trips in and out of a warm shelter. It is physically demanding, but above all, mentally demanding.

Sustainability without a safety net

Running a station for nine months without resupply requires a completely different relationship with resources. Supplies are planned according to the duration of the mission and the needs of the station. After a certain point, for example, fresh food inevitably disappears. Waste is collected, separated and stored until it can be transported out once logistical connections resume.

The principle behind it all is simple. We try to be as invisible as possible. We are guests here. The idea should be that our presence leaves as little behind as possible, and that what we bring with us is, as far as possible, taken away again.

A world with no mountains, no animals, no reference points

Most people who read about Antarctica only know its coastal version, ships, glaciers, wildlife. Around Concordia, there is none of that. The terrain is almost completely flat and the horizon stretches 360 degrees around me. There is almost nothing to give the landscape a sense of scale.

Then comes the polar night, around one hundred days without the sun rising above the horizon. Sometimes I think it is like living inside a gigantic white sphere. There is us, the station, a few laboratories and scientific installations. Then the horizon. And nothing else.

A natural laboratory unlike any other

Concordia is not in such an extreme place despite the science. For many of these fields, the extreme environment is precisely what makes the science possible.

Located around 1,200 kilometres inland, at more than 3,200 metres above sea level on the Antarctic Plateau, Concordia's combination of environmental conditions creates a natural laboratory that would be extremely difficult to replicate anywhere else on the planet.

Here we can study what we might call the natural environmental background, what the planet itself emits and circulates through the atmosphere, far away from major local sources of human activity. At the same time, the station makes it possible to investigate which pollutants of anthropogenic origin are able to travel enormous distances and reach even this extremely remote part of the world.

The characteristics of the ice sheet and the remoteness of the site also make Concordia valuable for geophysical and seismological research. Seismic waves generated by earthquakes thousands of kilometres away can be recorded here and used both to study the events themselves and to investigate the structure and properties of the materials through which those waves have travelled.

The atmosphere is extremely dry and thin, cloud cover is often limited, and during winter we have around three months without sunlight. These conditions also provide exceptional opportunities for astronomical observations that are extremely difficult to reproduce elsewhere from the ground.

We also study the Earth's magnetic field and the composition of the atmospheric column above us, while continuous meteorological observations and daily measurements contribute data that we share with the international scientific community. All of this scientific activity, as well as the complex logistics required to operate Concordia in such a remote environment, is made possible through the joint efforts of the Italian National Antarctic Research Programme (PNRA) and the French Polar Institute (IPEV).

Why it's worth it

After two winter overs, I can be honest about what really sustains a decision like this. I think it has to come from somewhere inside you. If I were not convinced of what I am doing, and that I am one small piece in the much larger puzzle of science, it would be very difficult to accept thirteen months away from home with essentially one flight in and one flight out.

Leaving means accepting that whatever may happen at home, I cannot simply decide to be there. That is probably one of the hardest realities to accept.

Before my first mission, there was really only one person whose opinion I needed: my son. I spoke to him, explained what I wanted to do and asked whether he was comfortable with it. Fortunately, he said yes. That allowed me to leave with a clear mind. Everyone else had to accept that it was my decision.

I strongly believe that individual freedom ends where another person's freedom begins. We only have one life. This one is mine, and as long as my choices do not unfairly come at the expense of someone else, I intend to live it in the way that I believe is right for me. Being here is part of that choice. And knowing that, at the same time, our work contributes one small piece to a much greater scientific effort gives that choice a purpose beyond the personal challenge.

Frequently Asked Questions

Where is Concordia Station located? Concordia is on the East Antarctic Plateau, around 1,200 kilometres inland and more than 3,200 metres above sea level.

How long is the isolation period at Concordia during winter? For about nine months, no flights or supplies reach the station once the last aircraft departs before the polar night.

What kind of research is done at Concordia? Atmospheric, geophysical and seismological research, astronomy, geomagnetic studies and meteorology, among other disciplines, taking advantage of environmental conditions found nowhere else on the planet.

How cold does it get at Concordia? Temperatures can drop to around −80°C in winter, with wind dramatically increasing the physical stress of working outside.

Who runs Concordia Station? It is jointly operated by the Italian National Antarctic Research Programme (PNRA) and the French Polar Institute (IPEV).

Gabriele Carugati

Station Leader at Concordia Station, Antarctica

PhD in Chemical Sciences

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

•