Tube to the Ice Below

Actually walking out on the ice

Today Megan and I went to the Observation Tube. Only what I thought it was did not come close to what it actually was. It is literally a tube sticking up out of the ice that barrels through it to the underside. I heard it was 80 feet down, others scoff and say only 40. Either way it is a tube of tightness that reveals a wonder of water under that ice.

Required to take a buddy in-case of emergency along with a radio, we set off for the tube, both having no idea what it was. As the wind kicked up and pushed us along, we saw a strange blue turquoise thing jetting out of the ice. Getting closer we saw the words, observation tube spray painted on top. This can't be it, I thought. It was small. Too small. People can't fit down there. But when the key fit the lock and we spun the cover back, there were ladder rungs going down into a darkness. This was it.

The Observation Tube

Megan offered to go first and slowly made her way down while I photographed her leaving.

Megan at the beginning . . .

Nearing the bottom

While documenting the experience I kept telling myself it wasn't a big deal. The tube was huge. Gigantic. I'd fit down there. Like a buttered seal I'd slip down and up no problem. It seems the older I get the more my imagination likes holding hands with fear and they can make an intimidating couple. Once it was my turn I threw my leg over the edge and grabbed on to the first rung. Taking a breath I squeezed down the tube, my large red parka brushing the back the back of the tube the whole time. When I dropped down out of the wind, the silence suddenly invading, did a moment of panic, near claustrophobia, rise up and try to strangle my confidence. Feeling like a stuffed sausage in a lipstick tube, I continued on, giving myself a pep talk, and determined not to miss out on this experience. Should I die, well there were worse places to have it happen. Should I get stuck, now that would just be humiliating so I had no choice. I had to keep moving.

Towards the bottom, the darkness blanketing my vision I put my foot down and felt nothing. Squirming around, I saw the ladder ended but there was still several feet of darkness. I sought with one foot for some sort of shelf to step down on but found nothing. Not about to step of into the deep end I hollered up at Megan asking her what was down here. "A rope ladder," she called back leaning over the tube. Fishing around some more I found something that rocked like a hammock and cautiously put my foot on it. It held so I continued downward and dropped into a pocket of windows revealing the beauty of the underside of the ice.

Four windows opened around the tube giving a great view of the ice layer above and the deep blue waters of the oceans outward.

Memsmorized by the surrealness of being under that ice, I sat for minutes just staring. Marveling at the colors, the deepness of the water, and the idea that I was floating in it. Looking out at the ice crystals that hung down, feeling no motion or swing. I just sat there transfixed.

When I had absorbed all I could for the moment, and not wanting to leave Megan to freeze above I began the climb back up. Reaching the top of the rope later, I raised my knee up to reach the first metal rung and hit a lip. Trying again without success, my fears came flooding back.

The way out, could I get there?

What if I couldn't get out? Was I doomed to stay stuck in this tube forever? Would the firemen even be able to get me out? Was I going to block the view of this amazing landscape for others? Again and again I tried until in an adrenaline induced rush I pulled my body up, pull-up style and my foot landed on something solid. I'd done it. I wasn't going to be "tube girl" after all. Climbing up much quicker than I did down, the roar of the windows assailed my ears the minute my head popped out of the tube. For a moment I staid there, blinking like a gopher, blinded by the wind and white. I want to go back down, I thought but realized the time had already passed, and poor Megan was getting pushed along the ice just standing still.

Sealing the lid in place, we pushed our way back to the base, the winds so strong that we felt ourselves being pushed back across the ice. You don't make much progress that way. Knowing we had hit condition two weather, I wondered if it was going to get any worse, and what we would do if it did. Happy Camper would come in handy now, i mused leaning into the wind, icy fingers stinging my face. (Happy Camper is a survival school they offer here. But you can only go by invitation).

Well we made it back okay, despite the cold and condition 2 with smiles on our faces and stories of our adventure. I want to go back again. They'll have it up till the ice gets too soft, so maybe another three weeks. Now I just need to find someone who wants to go . . . .