Servicing Scientific Field Sites Not Easy Task In North

The job of installing and servicing the many scientific observation stations scattered around remote areas of Alaska is a demanding one. At least, it is usually arduous work and, at worst, it can be extremely hazardous.

To take a single example, consider the problems encountered in installing a remote seismographic monitoring facility. It is necessary to choose a location in the planned area of study which has line-of-sight access to some central recording point, so that the seismic data can be telemetered by radio to a recording device. Often, this means that the instrumentation must be located on the top of some mountain. This usually requires the service of a helicopter, snow machine, or, in the worst-case scenario, backpacks. Hundreds of pounds of batteries and scientific gear must be moved.

Once on the selected site, the seismometer (the motion-sensing component) must be buried--an exhausting task when done by hand in permafrost or bedrock. Then the electronics have to be installed, the antenna erected, and the entire installation checked to see if it is operating correctly.

Seasonally, it can be expected that some of the stations have "died" for a number of reasons. In remote sites, such as in the Brooks Range and some areas of the Aleutians, this is often due to the curiosity of bears, and the apparent pleasure they derive from knocking around and chewing up shiny objects. Closer to civilization centers, the problem is more often due to human vandalism or theft. The weather is always a factor, and on many occasions it has been found that the wind has knocked over a transmitting antenna, or that it has been completely iced over.

But it is not only the equipment itself that is in jeopardy in operations such as these. The most tragic incident in the history of the Geophysical Institute's seismology program occurred on April 16, 1982. On that date, Kelly McClure, an electronics student at the University of Alaska and part-time employee of the seismology laboratory along with Dick Abel, an electronics technician, and a helicopter pilot were trying to retrieve several installations from St. Lawrence Island, when the helicopter flew into the side of a mountain.

None of the three were killed outright, but all were severely injured. After regaining consciousness and in terrible pain, McClure struggled through the night trying to keep the other two men alive. But their injuries were too great, the temperatures too severe, and both were dead when rescuers arrived by snow machine from Savoonga the next day.

An important point is that McClure was the only one aboard to have brought along emergency survival gear. Also, he had the presence of mind to remove the emergency locator transmitter from the helicopter, kept it next to his body so that the batteries remained warm, and carried it to high ground so that the signal would transmit further.

It was later found that McClure had suffered, in addition to other injuries, five cracked vertebrae and a broken arm. He subsequently lost parts of several fingers due to frostbite.

(As an added note, in 1968, two other helicopters on similar geophysical research missions crashed in Katmai National Monument. One carried a Geophysical Institute staff member, David Stone, but no injuries resulted from either incident, although the helicopters were destroyed).