We use cookies to improve your experience, some are essential for the operation of this site.

Karen Harvey and Tighe Urelius in McMurdo greenhouse.

Karen Harvey and Tighe Urelius in McMurdo greenhouse.
Karen Harvey and Tighe Urelius in McMurdo greenhouse.
Karen Harvey and Tighe Urelius in McMurdo greenhouse.
Karen Harvey and Tighe Urelius in McMurdo greenhouse.
Comments (0)
131682
Linder, Christopher L.
Karen Harvey and Tighe Urelius in McMurdo greenhouse.
Still Image
12/08/2007
graphics/pd3-1/cl_20071208_antarctica07_mcmurdo_035.jpg
The McMurdo greenhouse is a respite from Antarctica's angular whiteness, full of humidity, musty scents, and color. Started in 1989 with two abandoned Navy huts and $75 in seeds, the building today supplies fresh essentials like cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and a dozen fresh herbs to the galley (cafeteria). It's completely hydroponic: the plants grow in nutrient-bathed pipes instead of soil, lit by 400-watt light bulbs instead of the sun. Lettuce, chard, and bok choi wave beneath desk fans. Twenty-foot tomato vines wind through the air, and nasturtiums and zinnias brighten the walls. The sole employee is Karen Harvey, an agroecologist from the University of California, Santa Cruz, though some 10 volunteers, including surveyor (and fiance) Tighe Urelius, help out. Two hammocks offer refuge to frazzled townies (plants aren't allowed to be grown anywhere else). "They come up almost every night," Harvey said. "I'm not here, but I can tell because they always fold the hammocks up differently. Sometimes a cherry tomato or a jalapeno might be gone."
Image of The Day caption:
The greenhouse at McMurdo Station is a respite from Antarctica's angular whiteness. Full of humidity, musty scents, and color, it was started in 1989 with two abandoned Navy huts and $75 in seeds. The building today supplies fresh essentials like cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, and a dozen fresh herbs to the galley (cafeteria). The sole employee is Karen Harvey (foreground), an agroecologist from the University of California, Santa Cruz; some volunteers, including surveyor Tighe Urelius (background), help out. Two hammocks offer refuge to frazzled townies. "They come up almost every night," Harvey said. "I'm not here, but I can tell because they always fold the hammocks up differently. Sometimes a cherry tomato or a jalapeno might be gone."
Photo by Chris Linder
© Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution
Labels
This item includes these files
Image
Image
Collections