Ingrid

Here I am back on Egg Island. It is just me and Liz now basically to keep watch on the camp, while the rest of the Egg crew enjoys the spoils of life on the Arctic Sunrise.

Things at camp are very different with only two people. It is certainly easier to cook meals, but still can't seem to keep the sand out. Our gull chicks are growing up right before our eyes, and we awoke to their first adolesence squacks. It sounded terrible. Liz and I also watched as the chicks tested their wings for the first time, boy, they are getting big.

We are celebrating our third week here on Egg Island. It seems like yesterday that we arrived, so much has happened. Liz and I celebrated with a crazy card game called Speed, and some dark chocolate dipped in peanut butter.

As I reflect on the past weeks, I have been keeping track of what I call the "Sound of Egg Island":

Eider wings slapping the water on a still windless morning
The ding of our aluminum bat hitting rocks into the Arctic Ocean
Lapping of the lagoon tide on the beach
Melanie clicking away on the computer
Camp farts from every tent
Jack's silent thai chi
70's TV theme songs from the card players on a chilly late evening
Ringing of the cell phone
Alarm laugh of the gulls
Woody entertaining with his "Green" Elvis impersonation
Approaching footsteps in the sand
The zip/unzip of a Mountain Hardwear tent
Computer connection as Tom downloads/uploads greenlink
The hiss of the camp stoves
The backwash of a Sweetwater filter
Waves slurping under ice berg bits
Dive bombing mosquitoes
Helicopter blades slicing the air
Circling Arco company plane
The continuos OIL DRONE

Still bearing witness here on Egg Island

Ingrid