FMARS Sponsors	Final Dispatch from FMARS Robert Zubrin - Friday, July 26, 2002 Photo Gallery | Final Spectral Reflectance Experiment Report* (*Adobe Acrobat Format) This morning was an emotional roller coaster. When I got up the weather was acceptable for incoming Twin Otters, with winds at 6 knots, ceiling at 2,000 ft, and visibility of 10 km. I raised First Air in Resolute to give them the good news, and they told me that Resolute conditions were OK for takeoff. However no pilots would be available until 8 AM. So assuming that weather conditions remained good, they would takeoff at 8:30, and we could expect to see out first Otter about an hour later. Loading third plane. This good news got everyone excited; our Twin Otter was coming! However around 8 AM the weather deteriorated, with rain and fog limiting visibility, so First Air postponed our flight. Then around 9 conditions improved, with the rain stopped and ceiling lifted to 2,000 ft, with 15 knot winds parallel to the runway (from the west). Then the clouds broke, leaving us with an unlimited ceiling, with all other conditions fully adequate for Twin Otters. Unfortunately however, some clown from NASA base camp told First Air the airstrip was socked in with fog and a ceiling at 700 feet, so First Air decided they wouldn't fly "until conditions improve." I contacted the NASA base camp, and had some words with a person there. He said he was looking at a web cam that very instant, and it showed there was fog outside. I suggested that he go outside and look at the sky, which happened to be blue, with plenty of sunshine coming through the broken clouds. He replied that he had two licensed pilots in the tent with him, looking at that web cam, and blah, blah, blah. I suggested again that they go outside and look at the sky. I don't know whether someone from the NASA base camp corrected their erroneous report, or if First Air decided to believe us instead of them, or if the airline got wise through other means, but at 10 AM First Air told us they had just launched our first plane, and would launch another within 30 minutes. This set off a mad scramble, as we now had to use our single ATV trailer to rapidly ferry all the gear and science equipment for not just one Otter, but two, down Haynes Ridge, across the Lowell Canal, and up to the airstrip. To add to the fun, one of our ATVs balked at starting for 20 minutes, and then, when the first Twin Otter arrived it showed up with 7 barrels of fuel for our operations next year. So at the same time we were shuttling crew and cargo to the airstrip we had to also haul fuel drums back, which became progressively harder to manage as the number of available personnel decreased. But by noon the first and second Twin Otters had come and gone, taking with them Shannon, Emily, Markus, Frank, and the Russians. So now all who were left were Nell, K. Mark, and I, with one ATV and the trailer, and we went through the last tasks of bringing in the generators and power lines, flushing out the pipes, burning the last of the garbage, making the final inspections, and then ferrying our own gear to the airstrip. On the final run done by K. Mark and I back up Haynes Ridge to the hab with two fuel drums, the tailgate of the trailer broke off, sending the drums trundling downhill a ways. Rectifying this situation gave us both some healthy exercise. Then we brought another load of gear to the airstrip, and I stayed there while K. Mark went back for Nell. It was now about 1:30 PM and the weather had gotten bad again, with snow and a very low ceiling. I had the Iridium phone with me, so I called First Air to see if they would be willing to fly out and land under these condictions. They replied that the plane was already in the air, and I should expect to see it within ten minutes. They spoke truth: within a few minutes the plane did appear, but then, to my considerable consternation, immediately disappeared into a cloudbank. I radioed K. Mark back at the hab anyway, telling him to get moving, because (hopefully) our Twin Otter was about to land. Doug the Twin Otter pilot. It was really a questionable situation, since the ceiling had now dropped to maybe 150 ft above the runway. But suddenly the Twin Otter appeared in the east, flying lower than treetop level. This is possible to do on Devon Island because there are no trees. Then the plane landed. I felt like cheering. The flight back was uneventful. When we reached Resolute we were met by Aziz Kheraj who came down to the airport to take us back to the South Camp Inn, the wonderful establishment he runs together with his wife, Aleeasuk Idlout. I mentioned in one of my earlier dispatches that Aziz is a combination entrepenuer, construction manager, hotel opersator, expedition planner, and Mayor. Aleeasuk is similarly multi-talented. In addition to managing a family of seven, she is also the president of the Hunters and Trappers Organization, head of the Anglican Vestry and co-owner of the South Camp Inn and South Camp Enterprises. So now I am back at the South Camp Inn, undergoing reintegration into civilization. I've had two hot showers, a dinner including roast lamb and pork, and have had time to catch up on the news. While we have been away the stock market has crashed. In a local development of much greater interest to Aziz and Aleeasuk's daughter Beth, a puppy has been born. Its name is Bear, and is the son of Aziz's dog Nanook (which also means bear in Inuktituk.) It is worth considering these two events in juxtaposition. To the sophisticated world, the fall of the stock market appears to be a much more important event than the birth of Bear. Yet I am with Beth on this one. Stocks rise and fall, money changes from this hand to that. It is the creation of life that really matters. Why was Bear born? Were there not already enough puppies in the world? No, there were not. For Life had it in its power to create something wonderful, and so it did. And so it will. The birth of Bear and Beth's joy in it are statements of the invincibility of life. Why go to Mars? Why open a new world to life? Is not one living planet enough? No it is not. Life is the wonder of the universe. We have it in our power today to be life's messenger: to advance the work of creation by bringing life to Mars and Mars to life, and by so doing, prove to all time the precious nature of the human species, and every member of it. We have it in our power to create something wonderful, and so we should. It is a long way from Flashline Station to the first human Mars outpost, let alone a terraformed planet. Yet a journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step. That step has been taken. We have set up an outpost to learn how to live and work on Mars. We must do much more, but our course is set. If you would like to add your talents to this grand adventure, I invite you to join the Mars Society. You can do so at our website at www.marssociety.org. Our next international convention will be at the University of Colorado at Boulder, August 8-11, 2002. Papers will be given there not only about Flashline Station, but about every aspect of exploring and settling the Red Planet. I hope I see you there. On to Boulder. On to Mars!
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