Journal articles on the topic 'Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions'

ABSTRACTThe Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) are conducted through the cooperation of various government agencies and research and interest groups. Changes in organisational arrangements since 1946 have reflected the emphasis given to different aspects of Australian Antarctic policy. The Antarctic program is focussed in Hobart, and the lead agency, the Australian Antarctic Division, is currently part of the federal environment portfolio. Australia spent an estimated $A75.7 million on its Antarctic program in the financial year 1991/92, $A67.3 million, or 89%, of which was channelled through the Antarctic Division. The'disposable budget'for research activities has remained relatively static in real terms during the past decade. The consolidation of expenditure through the Antarctic Division and the program approach to budgeting now provide some degree of breakdown of the total expenditure, identify the large sums spent on infrastructure and technology support, and quantify the high threshold cost of research in Antarctica. It remains to be seen what effect the changes in national policies, such as the decision to ban mining in Antarctica, and geopolitical developments will have on future levels of funding.

In 1947 knowledge of Heard Island was confined to a rough mapping compiled by nineteenth-century sealers, and the results of four scientific expeditions that had briefly investigated the Atlas Cove area. Exploration continued in two distinct periods between 1947 and 1971. In the first period the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) built a scientific station at Atlas Cove in 1947, and occupied it continuously until 1955 as an ‘A Class’ meteorological station, a seismic and magnetic observatory, and a base for other scientific studies and for exploration of the island. In the second period four summer expeditions and one wintering expedition worked on the island between 1963 and 1971. The summer expeditions were an ANARE expedition in 1963, an Australian private expedition (The South Indian Ocean Expedition to Heard Island) in 1965, and ANARE expeditions in 1969 and 1971 associated with United States and French expeditions. A United States expedition wintered in 1969. There were no further expeditions until 1980. The years 1947–1971 saw many achievements. Expedition members recorded seven years of synoptic meteorological observations and four years of seismic and magnetic observations. They developed empirical techniques of work, travel, and survival that shaped the collective character of ANARE and were later applied in Antarctica. Despite difficult terrain and consistently bad weather, and the accidental deaths of two men in 1952, unsupported field parties of two or three men travelling on foot explored and mapped in detail the heavily glaciated island, and documented its topography, geology, glaciology and biology. They made three overland circuits of the island, the first ascent of Big Ben (2745 m), and the first recorded landing on the nearby McDonald Islands. Expedition members bred and trained dog teams for later use in Antarctica. They reported the commencement and subsequent progress of massive glacier retreat caused by regional warming, and of the island's colonisation by king penguins (Aptenodytes patagonicus) and antarctic fur seals (Arctocephalus gazella). They also reported measurements of glacier flow and thickness, the palaeomagnetism of Heard Island rocks, behavioural and population studies of southern giant petrels (Macronectes giganteus) and other birds, studies of southern elephant seals (Mirounga leonina) and leopard seals (Hydrurga leptonyx), and the cold stress and acclimatisation experienced by humans working in the island's wet-cold climate. In addition, Heard Island served as a testing ground for men, equipment, scientific programmes, huskies, general administration, and logistics, without which Mawson station could not have been established as successfully as it was in 1954. The American wintering expedition and the French summer expedition contributed to major international geodetic and geophysical investigations. In sum, the expeditions between 1947 and 1971 added much to our knowledge of Heard Island, and they laid down a solid foundation for the work of later expeditions.

In Antarctica an astonishing more than 300 ‘medical’ place-names record the lives of surgeons and physicians who have served as leaders, clinicians and scientists in the field of polar medicine and other doctors memorialized for their service to medicine. These enduring medical memorials are to be found in the names of glaciers, mountains, capes and islands of the vast frozen Southern Continent. This Antarctic Medical Gazetteer features, inter alii, doctor-expedition leaders, including Jean-Baptiste Charcot (1867–1936) of France and Desmond Lugg (b. 1938) of Australia. The Medical Gazetteer lists 43 geographical features on Brabant Island that were named after famous doctors. This Gazetteer also includes a collection of medical place-names on the Loubet Coast honouring Dr John Cardell (1896–1966) and nine other pioneers who worked on the prevention of snow blindness and four islands of the Lyall Islands Group, including Surgeon Island, named after United States Antarctic Medical Officers. Eleven geographic features (mountains, islands, nunataks, lakes and more) are named after Australian doctors who have served with the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions based at Davis Station. Biographic memorials in Antarctica comprise a collective witness of esteem, honouring in particular those doctors who have served in Antarctica where death and injury remains a constant threat.

A new species, Hypsibius heardensis sp. nov. (Tardigrada: Eutardigrada: Hypsibiidae) is described from samples collected during the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) 1986-87 expedition to Heard Island, in the southern Indian Ocean. The new species belongs to the dujardini group and differs from similar species of Hypsibius by the absence of eyes, large apophyses, near equal macroplacoids, lack of a microplacoid, the presence of a small septulum, and cuticular bars near the base of all claws.

Phillip Law is renowned as the first and best-recognized Director of the Australian Antarctic Division, responsible for conduct of the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) 1947-66, with the emphasis on science. He established most of the ANARE traditions and oversaw the location and establishment of all Australian Antarctic stations. He was widely recognized and decorated for both national and international influence. His main trait was perseverance in fighting to achieve his goals. In 1966, he became Chief Executive of the Victoria Institute of Colleges to develop, highly successfully, non-university tertiary education in Victoria. Throughout his professional career, he was a prolific diarist, writer and publicist.

Alf Howard, (Fig. 1) died on 4 July 2010. He was the last surviving member of Sir Douglas Mawson's 1929–1931 British, Australian and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition (BANZARE) that made further extensive claims to sovereignty defining the limits of what was to become Australian Antarctic Territory (AAT) in 1933. He was also the last survivor to have served aboard the coal-fired three-masted wooden ship Discovery built in Dundee for Captain Robert Falcon Scott's 1901–1904 National Antarctic Expedition.

AbstractIce-flow properties within a polar ice sheet are examined using the comprehensive data gathered from ice-core drilling by Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) at Dome Summit South (DSS), on Law Dome, East Antarctica. Using the shear strain rates derived from borehole inclination measurements we demonstrate the need to modify the ice-flow relations to treat enhanced shear deformation deep within the ice sheet. We show that the relation between enhanced flow and the measured crystallographic properties is generally in accord with expectations, at least in the upper parts of the ice sheet, but it becomes clear that nearer to the bedrock the situation is more complicated. We also compare the observed shear strain-rate profile with results from a model that describes flow enhancement as a function of the applied stresses.

AbstractFur seals were exterminated from Macquarie Island about 20 years after discovery of the island in 1810. Their specific identity is unknown. Few fur seals were reported at the island until it was occupied by the Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions in 1948. Fur seal numbers are now increasing. An archaeological excavation at a sealers' quarters at Sandy Bay in 1988 revealed the fragmented skull of a young Antarctic fur sealArctocephalus gazella1.1 m below the surface in a layer dated in the 1870s and 1880s. This period coincides with the recovery of fur seal populations in the South Atlantic Ocean following earlier harvesting. Elsewhere it has been argued that the Antarctic fur seal is unlikely to have been the original fur seal at Macquarie Island because few individuals of that species are ashore in winter, which is the season when the island was discovered and fur-seal harvesting began. It is concluded that the Sandy Bay skull is from a vagrant animal.

AbstractThe Chinese National Antarctic Research Expedition (GHINARE) carried out three traverses from Zhongshan station to Dome A, Princess Elizabeth Land and Inaccessible Area, East Antarctic ice sheet, during the 1996/97 to 1998/99 Antarctic field seasons. The expeditions are part of the Chinese International Trans-Antarctic Scientific Expedition program. In this project, glaciological investigations of mass balance, ice temperature, ice flow, stratigraphy in snow pits and snow/firn ice cores, as well as the glaciochemical study of surface snow and shallow ice cores, have been carried out. In the 1998/99 field season, CHINARE extended the traverse route to 1128 km inland from Zhongshan station. The density profiles show that firnification over Princess Elizabeth Land and Inaccessible Area (290–1100 km along the route) is fairly slow, and the accumulation rate recovered from snow pits along the initial 460 km of the route is 4.6–21 cm (46–210 kg m–2a–1 ) water equivalent. The initial 460 km of the route can be divided into four sections based on the differences of accumulation rate. This pattern approximately coincides with the study on the Lambert Glacier basin (LGB) by Australian scientists. During the past 50 years, the trends of both air temperature and accumulation rate show a slight increase in this area, in contrast to the west side of the LGB. Data on surface accumulation rates and their spatial and temporal variability over ice-drainage areas such as the LGB are essential for precise mass-balance calculation of the whole ice sheet, and are important for driving ice-sheet models and testing atmospheric models.

AbstractShipboard observations (in accordance with Norsk Polar-Institutt guidelines) from 6 years of Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) voyages have provided data giving a detailed knowledge of iceberg sizes and concentrations in the Southern Ocean between long. 60° and 140° E. The resulting size–frequency distributions are examined in conjunction with a knowledge of water movement along known drift tracks in a selected study area (between lat. 59° and 64° S., and long. 90° and 120° E.) to determine iceberg-dissolution rates. The “median life” (before breaking) of icebergs less than 1000 m in horizontal dimension is estimated to be 0.2 a, which is significantly lower than was previously thought. The mean melt rate is estimated to be 0.12 m d–1, which agrees broadly with previous laboratory studies. The relative contributions of melt, calving, and breakage, plus the enhancement effect of roll-over, are examined in estimating the natural dissolution rate. Breakage appears to be the dominant mechanism for larger icebergs with melt and calving able to explain the disappearance of icebergs in the smallest categories only (within the mean “median-life” period). Examination of the historical records of Captain Cook indicates that iceberg concentrations, as well as the northerly extent in this region 200 years ago, were compatible with the present data.

AbstractShipboard observations (in accordance with Norsk Polar-Institutt guidelines) from 6 years of Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions (ANARE) voyages have provided data giving a detailed knowledge of iceberg sizes and concentrations in the Southern Ocean between long. 60° and 140° E. The resulting size–frequency distributions are examined in conjunction with a knowledge of water movement along known drift tracks in a selected study area (between lat. 59° and 64° S., and long. 90° and 120° E.) to determine iceberg-dissolution rates. The “median life” (before breaking) of icebergs less than 1000 m in horizontal dimension is estimated to be 0.2 a, which is significantly lower than was previously thought. The mean melt rate is estimated to be 0.12 m d–1, which agrees broadly with previous laboratory studies. The relative contributions of melt, calving, and breakage, plus the enhancement effect of roll-over, are examined in estimating the natural dissolution rate. Breakage appears to be the dominant mechanism for larger icebergs with melt and calving able to explain the disappearance of icebergs in the smallest categories only (within the mean “median-life” period). Examination of the historical records of Captain Cook indicates that iceberg concentrations, as well as the northerly extent in this region 200 years ago, were compatible with the present data.

The insect fauna of Heard Island were investigated on the ChallengerExpedition in 1875 (Kirby 1884); the Deutsche Sudpolar-Expedition in 1902 (VanHöffen 1912); and the Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition in 1951/52(Brown 1964; Gressitt and Temple 1970; Home 1984). With the addition of Lepidoptera in these last reports, six orders of insects were recognised as occurring on Heard Island, the others being Collembola, Coleoptera, Diptera, Siphonaptera, and Mallophaga. The present note reports the addition of a seventh order, Thysanoptera, to the fauna.

AbstractRecords of recent oxygen isotope ratios (δ18O) and accumulation rates are presented for the region of Wilhelm II Land, East Antarctica, between 78˚ and 93˚E and from the coast to 2100m elevation. These records were derived from analysis of 21 shallow firn cores collected during the 1997/98 and 1998/99 Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions summer operations. the accumulation rates were determined using comparisons between detailed analyses of density, δ18O, hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) levels and electrical conductivity. the δ18O distribution follows an approximately linear relationship with snow surface elevation, with values from –22‰ near the coast to –32‰ towards 2000m elevation. Accumulation-rate distribution does not display this simple relationship with topography. South of the West Ice Shelf the contours run parallel to lines of latitude (oblique to the coast and topography), with 400 kg m–2 a–1 towards the coast and 2000m elevation, and a lower zone of 300 kg m–2 a–1 along an axis of 68.4˚ S. This pattern of accumulation is also evident along the Mirny–Vostok traverse route. Southwest of the West Ice Shelf the rate of accumulation drops gradually from 300 to 200 kg m–2 a–1 towards Lambert Glacier basin. Surface-snow redistribution and variations in accumulation rate cause variability in the clarity of core records, but several sites show sufficient stratigraphic preservation to suggest potential for extraction of extended palaeoenvironmental records through further drilling.

Recent investigations by members of Australian National Antarctic Research Expeditions to Macquarie I. have revealed a decrease in the elephant seal population there of approximately 50% over the last 36 years. Lower birth weights and/or slower growth during the lactation period might explain this decrease. To test this hypothesis, growth of pups was studied from birth to 20 days during the 1984 and 1985 breeding seasons; these results were compared as far as possible with similar results for the 1956 and 1965 seasons. Average birth weight has not changed significantly over the last 20 years; it is suggested that if food supply were a major factor in the reduction of the elephant seal population, then birth weights in 1985 would have been lower than those in 1956. At birth, male pups were 7% (3 kg) heavier than female pups in 1985. Results from previous years suggest that this is probably normal in this seal. The weight of pups near weaning (20 or 21 days old) is shown to be significantly less in 1984 and 1985 than 1965, but this may be explained by differences in methodology. It is concluded that, on the evidence available, the pattern of pup growth on Macquarie I. has not altered significantly with time, but more work is needed to reach a clear conclusion.

Keith Cole grew up in Cairns, attended the local high school, and became the first in his family to attend university. Trained in physics and mathematics, he taught in secondary schools before joining the 1956 Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition to Macquarie Island as Auroral Physicist. This was the start of his lifelong career in space physics, exploring primarily the space environment of the Earth. He had a remarkable ability to identify the important physical processes underlying many phenomena, often when only limited data or observations were available. Thus early in his career he correctly explained several puzzling phenomena, particularly in the ionosphere and thermosphere, and quickly established himself as a leader in space physics, a position he maintained throughout his career. He also made very significant contributions as an educator (he was a Foundation Professor of Physics at La Trobe University) and through leadership positions in national and international science organizations.

Located on the northwest coast of Heard Island, a World Heritage-listed sub-Antarctic territory of Australia, Atlas Cove served as the site of the first permanently occupied Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition (ANARE) station (1947–55). Subsequent to its closure, Atlas Cove Station was abandoned and left largely to the mercy of the natural elements, although it has been visited and occupied on an infrequent basis by ANARE. All activities on the island are now subject to the provisions of the Heard Island Wilderness Reserve Management Plan. During 2000–2001 a major clean-up of the site was undertaken, with most of the remaining structures demolished and material collected for return to Australia and disposal. To assess the extent and intensity of contamination within the station area, soil and water samples were collected and analysed for petroleum hydrocarbons and heavy metals. Assessment of site contamination was made with reference to specific background control limits calculated for Atlas Cove Station, and comparison was also made with Australian and New Zealand guidelines for the protection of aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems. Contamination by heavy metals is evident throughout the station but not at levels of sufficient magnitude to infer a significant potential toxic impact on local ecosystems. Hence remedial action to reduce the concentration and mobility of heavy metals in soil and water is not a high priority, although monitoring of changes at the site through time is recommended. Contamination by petroleum hydrocarbons is at a level that may cause a significant toxic impact on the environment and requires further investigation to assess impacts and possibly to undertake remedial action. Given the large quantity of petroleum-contaminated soil present, remediation processes that can be carried out in situ are likely to be the preferable clean-up options. The benefits of remediation, however, must be balanced against any negative effect this might exert on the plant and animal wildlife that have recolonised this historically important site.

AbstractAn updated compilation of published and new data of major-ion (Ca, Cl, K, Mg, Na, NO3, SO4) and methylsulfonate (MS) concentrations in snow from 520 Antarctic sites is provided by the national ITASE (International Trans-Antarctic Scientific Expedition) programmes of Australia, Brazil, China, Germany, Italy, Japan, Korea, New Zealand, Norway, the United Kingdom, the United States and the national Antarctic programme of Finland. The comparison shows that snow chemistry concentrations vary by up to four orders of magnitude across Antarctica and exhibit distinct geographical patterns. The Antarctic-wide comparison of glaciochemical records provides a unique opportunity to improve our understanding of the fundamental factors that ultimately control the chemistry of snow or ice samples. This paper aims to initiate data compilation and administration in order to provide a framework for facilitation of Antarctic-wide snow chemistry discussions across all ITASE nations and other contributing groups. The data are made available through the ITASE web page (http://www2.umaine.edu/itase/content/syngroups/snowchem.html) and will be updated with new data as they are provided. In addition, recommendations for future research efforts are summarized.

Georg Balthasar Neumayer (1826–1909) was probably the most important figure in establishing maritime services and ocean research in Germany, after he spent several years in Australia as a young scientist. He succeeded to found the ‘Deutsche Seewarte’ in Hamburg, the predecessor of the modern BSH (Bundesamt für Seeschifffahrt und Hydrographie—Federal Martime and Hydrographic Agency) in Hamburg and Rostock and established a wide range of maritime services by providing sailing instructions for merchant vessels. He took initiatives towards Germany´s first global ocean expedition on Gazelle, the first International Polar Year, the first German Antarctic Expedition on Gauss, and became a widely recognised and respected science manager, on the national as well on the international scene.

The article provides a brief overview of the publications, as well as our own memories about the doctor of geological and mineral sciences, Academician Petro Feodosiiovych Gozhyk — scientist, researcher that had state- and strategic level thinking, about his contribution to the development of marine geological works in the Institute of Geological Sciences of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, his role in the creation of the Ukrainian Antarctic Center (nowadays the National Antarctic Research Center of The National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine) and the importance of his personality for the formation of Ukraine as «Antarctic State». P.F. Gozhyk was not only one of the initiators of the Center for Antarctic Research of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, but also its first director, the developer of long-term polar research programs at the station «Academician Vernadsky». His scientific interests were focused on a wide range of subjects, and marine geology was among his scientific priorities. Academician P. F. Gozhyk was an organizer and participant of many round-the-world sea and ocean expeditions to the Indian, Atlantic and Southern oceans, the Red and Black Seas. The main publications of P. F. Gozhyk on «geology of the seas and oceans» and «geological studies of Antarctica» are listed in the article.

The article discusses how organisational structure and culture affected the preparations for sledging in three Antarctic expeditions between 1901 and 1904. The central focus is how expedition leaders sought tacit knowledge, ‘the knowledge of how we do things.’ Two organisational types were derived from a study of 36 major polar expeditions. These – the industrial organisation and the innovative organisation – were used to analyse how sledging practices evolved in the British National Antarctic Expedition, German South Polar Expedition, and Scottish National Antarctic Expedition. Robert Falcon Scott, in great part as a result of his naval heritage, did not fully understand the need for and the methods required to gain the operational knowledge required for sledging in Antarctica. He applied the traditional command-and-control system based on naval tradition. Erich von Drygalski and William Speirs Bruce applied Fridtjof Nansen's scientific approach, in which the scientific staffs were integrated into sledging operations. In this approach, every variable that could possibly affect the outcome of the research was incorporated into preparations, much as is the case in classical experimental design. While no attempt is made to judge sledging success in the study, the results clearly indicate the importance of knowing how to use the tacit dimension in sledging. The implications go far beyond sledging and suggest the need for managers to have an intimate understanding of how things work.

I write with the aim of keeping subscribers and readers informed about forthcoming changes concerning Polar Record, the journal of the Scott Polar Research Institute, that is published by Cambridge University Press. Many will be aware that the journal dates from 1931 and that its name arises from the need to record activity in polar areas, and in those days this largely consisted in setting out the heroic deeds of the various pioneering expeditions. The very first issue (priced at 1 shilling or 5 pence in today's currency!) contained information about Mawson's British Australian New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition, Byrd's first Antarctic Expedition and referred to the then recent deaths of Nansen, Sverdrup and Royds.

AbstractThe relics of polar exploration are treasured in the museums of a multitude of nations. In Australia, the focus of most such collections is Sir Douglas Mawson and his expeditions to Antarctica in 1911–14 and 1929–31. The nature of these collections divides into the two large categories of scientific specimens and expedition relics. The latter are spread among Australian and other museums in a distribution that speaks of fascination with the exotic and heroic aspects of the Australasian Antarctic Expedition and the geopolitical ramifications of the British, Australian and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition. The specimens, by contrast, have not been treated well, and although thoroughly documented, may be close to losing their integrity as scientific resources. Both types of material merit the renewed attention of their museum-keepers as resources on the history of Antarctica.

The Antarctic Ice Sheet plays a critical role in global climate and sea level change resulting in it being the focus of international scientific exploration. Airborne platforms have been applied to study large geographical regions of Antarctica that are logistically difficult to reach by other means. For 30 years Chinese Antarctic expeditions, have widely applied ground based platforms in Antarctica. During the 32nd Chinese National Antarctic Research Expedition (years 2015/16), the first fixed-wing aircraft (Snow Eagle 601) was deployed by Polar Research Institute of China with special modifications for polar operation and airborne geophysical investigation of ice sheets. Here, the airframe of the aircraft and modifications for science operation in Polar Regions, as well as scientific instrumentation, system integration and its first application in Antarctica are introduced in detail. [Figure: see text]

The article is devoted of the 25th anniversary of the First Ukrainian Marine Antarctic Expedition (1997). The short history of development the marine geophysical study of the deep structures of the World Ocean and Antarctica in the S. I. Subbotin Institute of Geophysics (National Academy of sciences of Ukraine) is presented. Main focus is on the results obtained during the implementation of the «State research programs in Antarctica». The main patterns of geophysical anomalies and their spatiotemporal distributions in West Antarctica were investigated. The lithosphere deep structured geophysical models well corresponds with the evolution processes of the continental margin of the West Antarctica. The built-depth sections record the large-scale processes of the formation of the Drake Passage and the western part of the Scotia Sea as a result of the primary crust fragments’ transformation and the geodynamic evolution of the region located between South America and West Antarctica. Some results for the assessment of mineral resources and hydrocarbon potential of the continental margin structures of the NW area of the Antarctic Peninsula are presented.

The development of knowledge from exploration and research in both polar regions is indicated, with particular emphasis on international co-ordination of scientific investigation and dissemination of literature. Periods where this was essentially national are contrasted with current circumstances of work in the Arctic and Antarctic where economy and efficiency of effort are particularly important. Historical stages and phases of exploration are distinguished. Most exploration has been governmental but contributions by many private expeditions are also significant.

This study provides taxonomic and distributional data of bryozoan species from the Ross Sea area, mainly around Terra Nova Bay, based on specimens curated at the Italian National Antarctic Museum (MNA, Section of Genoa). Bryozoan specimens were collected at 75 different sampling stations in the Ross Sea and in the Magellan Strait, in a bathymetric range of 18–711 meters, during 13 expeditions of the Italian National Antarctic Research Program (PNRA) conducted between 1988 and 2014. A total of 282 MNA vouchers corresponding to 311 specimens and 127 morphospecies have been identified and included in the present dataset. 62% of the species were already reported for the Terra Nova Bay area, where most of the Italian samples come from, with a 35% of samples representing new records classified at the specific level, and 3% classified at the genus level. These new additions increase to 124 the total number of species known to occur in Terra Nova Bay. Four 3D-models of Antarctic bryozoans from the Ross Sea are also presented and will be released for research and educational purposes on the Museum website.

When geographers recommended the exploration of the Antarctic regions at the close of the nineteenth century, Germany and Britain were eager to do their best. The promoters of Antarctic research, such as Georg von Neumayer (1826–1909) in Hamburg and Clements Markham (1830–1916) in London, could finally raise enough money to build national flagships for science. Despite unfavourable political circumstances, due to political rivalry between Germany and Great Britain, the leaders of the expeditions — Erich von Drygalski (1865–1949) and Robert Falcon Scott (1868–1912) — agreed to a scientific collaboration with regard to meteorological and magnetic measurements in Antarctica during 1901–1903, which later was extended until 1904. This paper reveals that favourable circumstances such as the International Geographical Congresses in London (1895) and Berlin (1899) played a major role in increasing scientific interest in and public support of Antarctic research, ultimately leading to international collaboration.

This new dataset presents occurrence data for Porifera collected in the Ross Sea, mainly in the Terra Nova Bay area, and curated at the Italian National Antarctic Museum (MNA, section of Genoa). Specimens were collected in 331 different sampling stations at depths ranging from 17 to 1,100 meters in the framework of 17 different Italian Antarctic expeditions funded by the Italian National Antarctic Research Program (PNRA). A total of 807 specimens, belonging to 144 morphospecies (i.e., 95 taxa identified at species level and 49 classified at least at the genus level) is included in the dataset. Nearly half (45%) of the species reported here correspond to species already known for Terra Nova Bay. Out of the remaining 55% previously unknown records, under a third (~29%) were classified at the species level, while over a quarter (~26%) were ascribed to the genus level only and these would require further study. All vouchers are permanently curated at the MNA and are available for study to the scientific community. A 3D model of an uncommon species from the Ross Sea, i.e. Tethyopsisbrondstedi (Burton, 1929), is also presented and will be made available for outreach purposes.

The Antarctic Continent, which has the most challenging environmental-field conditions such as high cost logistics needs, extreme weather events, and natural elements that makes impossible to live for most of the living things including humans, in terms of to carry out scientific research, has hosting scientific projects of Turkish scientists in recent years. Turkish Antarctic Expeditions, continuing since 2017, have concentrated on Horseshoe Island, located in the Marguerite Bay on the west coast of the Antarctic Peninsula, where ice melts are recorded the most due to global climate change. Since Turkey plans to establish a scientific station in the upcoming years on Horseshoe Island, reviewing all disciplines in the literature of polar research that have been done and can be done on the island is of great importance in the national polar strategy and in laying the foundation of scientific research to be carried out in the future. In this study, the researches of especially British and Turkish scientists in the region were reviewed: it was seen that many interdisciplinary studies and social science projects were also carried out. Despite the many scientific projects completed, it is seen among the results of this study that many polar research disciplines that can be applied and can give direction to world science can still be conduct on the region.

Whilst nationalism is a recognised force globally, its framing is predicated on experience in conventionally occupied parts of the world. The familiar image of angry young men waving Kalashnikovs means that the idea that nationalism might be at play in Antarctica has to overcome much instinctive resistance, as well as the tactical opposition of the keepers of the present Antarctic political arrangements. The limited consideration of nationalism in Antarctica has generally been confined to the past, particularly “Heroic-Era” and 1930s–1940s expeditions. This article addresses the formations of nationalism in the Antarctic present. Antarctic nationalism need not present in the same shape as nationalisms elsewhere to justify being called nationalism. Here it occurs in a virtual or mediated form, remote from the conventional metropolitan territories of the states and interests concerned. The key aspect of Antarctic nationalism is its contemporary form and intensity. We argue that given the historic difficulties of Antarctic activities, and the geopolitical constraints of the Cold War, it has only been since the end of that Cold War that a more muscular nationalism has been able to flourish in Antarctica. Our assessment is that there at least 11 bases upon which Antarctic nationalism might arise: (i) formally declared claims to territorial sovereignty in Antarctica; (ii) relative proximity of Antarctica to one’s metropolitan territory; (iii) historic and institutional associations with Antarctica; (iv) social and cultural associations; (v) regional or global hegemonic inclinations; (vi) alleged need in relation to resources; (vii) contested uses or practices in Antarctica; (viii) carry-over from intense antipathies outside Antarctica; (ix) national pride in, and mobilisation through, national Antarctic programmes; (x) infrastructure and logistics arrangements; or (xi) denial or constraint of access by one’s strategic competitors or opponents. In practice of course, these are likely to be manifested in combination. The risks inherent in Antarctic nationalism are the risks inherent in unrestrained nationalism anywhere, compounded by its already weak juridical situation. In Antarctica, the intersection of nationalism with resources poses a particular challenge to the regional order and its commitments to shareable public goods such as scientific research and environmental protection.

The British National Antarctic Expedition planned with discreditable bickering, sailed for the Antarctic in 1901 on the Discovery. The venture was well equipped and commanded by R. F. Scott who, without scientific training himself, was nevertheless remarkably in empathy with his scientists. The expedition was foremost among those dispatched around the same time in establishing basic knowledge of the continent. Followed by the second Scott expedition and those of Shackleton and Mawson, a cadre of able and enthusiastic scientists was established. The second involvement of the Discovery in Antarctic exploration was planned without quarrels and with unusual understanding of science by a government department, resulting in a massive accumulation of knowledge about the Southern Ocean. United States expeditions began in 1928, introducing modern technology, thereby extending greatly the scope of Antarctic research. The Norwegian-British-Swedish expedition of 1949–1952 put planned science before geographical exploration. The International Geophysical Year of 1957–1958, supported by governments and planned by international committees, achieved great success. Science has flourished in Antarctica with unplanned and serendipitous findings emerging, for example, the structure of the magnetosphere, collection of meteorites by ice movements, the microbial life of the apparently sterile Dry Valleys and the discovery of the ozone “hole”.

The Arctic region, having tremendous natural resources, is of strategic importance for the Russian Federation. Protection of the Arctic environment, its progressive development, modernization and reorganization of the expeditionary infrastructure as well as scientific research implementation become more effective in close international cooperation. Establishment of strong scientific relationships between research institutes of the Arctic Council States is essential for the achievement of their national and regional goals. This article is concerned with the description of the scientific-research institutes based in Norway, Finland and Sweden, which focus on the study of the Arctic. The paper covers their main objectives, areas of a scientific activity, educational projects arrangement and participation in the Arctic expeditions. The article discusses an existing interaction of the considered scientific institutes of the Scandinavian countries with the institutes and universities of the Russian Federation, investigating the Arctic and Antarctic. This review will allow expanding current ways and outlining new possibilities of collaboration between the countries of the Arctic pool within the Arctic exploration and development. The paper particularly emphasizes on such large international projects as the University of the Arctic (UArctic), the MOSAiC expedition and the International Meteorological Institute (IMI).

AbstractDome A, the highest point on the Antarctic ice sheet at just over 4000 ma.s.l., is located near the centre of East Antarctica. Chinese National Antarctic Research Expeditions have studied ice-sheet dynamics and mass balance along a traverse route from Zhongshan station to Dome A during the austral summers from 1996/97 to 2004/05. Nineteen GPS sites were occupied on at least two occasions at approximately 50 km intervals. The purpose of the surveys was to provide accurate ice-dynamics data. A dual-frequency GPS receiver was used and each site was occupied for 1–12 hours. GPS data were processed using GAMIT/GLOBK software, and horizontal accuracies were within 0.1 m. Repeat GPS measurements provided ice velocities. The horizontal surface ice velocities increase from the summit of the ice sheet to the coast. In the Dome A area, the velocities are <10ma–1; in the plateau area, velocities range from 8 to 24 ma–1 and reach about 98.2 ma–1 at a site (LT980) near the coast. The flow directions are roughly perpendicular to the ice-sheet surface elevation contours, primarily toward the Lambert Glacier basin.

ABSTRACTMcMurdo Station, Antarctica, is a US Federal research facility operated year-round by the National Science Foundation (NSF). Its primary mission is to support scientific research, but it also provides logistical air and ground support for South Pole Station, seasonal field sites and nearby stations operated by other countries. It is the largest station in Antarctica, supporting up to 1,200 people. While McMurdo Station has a long scientific legacy, the facility also has an interesting architectural and engineering history that spans 60 years and has its antecedents in the ‘heroic age’ of exploration (1898–1916) and the Little America expeditions (1929–1958). Here, I describe the history of the built environment of McMurdo Station to clarify how it evolved from a temporary air station in the late 1950s to its current role as the flagship research facility of the US Antarctic Research Program (USAP). This historical review may provide insights that are useful as the station continues to transform and evolve, allowing it to continue its scientific mission into the 21st century.

Southern right whales (SRW) in the southwest Atlantic are recognized as slowly recovering after the massive population decline induced by harvesting. SRWs spend summer months in high-latitude feeding grounds and migrate to mid-latitude wintering grounds in autumn, where breeding occurs. Only a few sightings are known for the Antarctic waters as far south as 64° S. The West Antarctic Peninsula is a biologically productive area experiencing marine ecosystem transformations caused by climate changing at one of the fastest rates on Earth. The continental shelf of this region is important for krill stocks — a key prey source for SRW. The purpose of the present study was to reveal the austral summer and autumn presence of the SRWs in the waters of the West Antarctic Peninsula. In May—June 2009, vessel observations were made during a National Science Foundation research cruise. In March 2014, opportunistic surveys were conducted by researchers using the tour vessel as a platform of opportunity. During late March and April of 2018, January — July 2019 and March — April 2020, regular boat-based observations and vessel surveys were conducted in frames of the XXIII and XXIV Ukrainian Antarctic Expeditions, based at the Ukrainian Antarctic Akademik Vernadsky station. In our study we discuss four sightings of SRWs occurred at south of 64° S (2), and 65° S (2). On May 7, 2009, a single adult foraging SRW was sighted in Wilhelmina Bay. On March 22, 2014, an adult SRW was resting with two adult humpback whales in the northern part of the Lemaire Channel. On April 7, 2018, one SRW was sighted in a group with four humpback whales, and intensive interspecies social interactions happened. The last encounter of the SRW happened on April 24, 2020, in Gerlache Strait, near the southeastern coast of the Brabant Island — a single adult right whale was noticed while travelling. Results of our study indicate the autumn presence of some SRWs in the West Antarctic Peninsula waters — on the edge of the southern limit of known distribution for the species.

Introduction:Traditional belief holds that the human appendix is a vestigial organ devoid of any purpose, and consequently, surgical appendectomy has been the “gold standard” treatment for suspected appendicitis. Prophylactic (preventative) appendectomy remains the policy of the Australian Antarctic Division for wintering medical practitioners and has been discussed in the context of long-duration non-orbital space flight.Aim:New research around appendiceal function, increasing adoption of non-surgical treatment modalities for acute appendicitis, and emerging research on the long-term consequences of appendicectomy have recently enabled researchers to challenge this paradigm.Methods:This novel project set out to test the hypothesis that a “one size fits all” prophylactic appendectomy policy may not be in the best interest of individual expeditioners, and utilized a “mindmap” to identify several key areas for a scoping literature review. This enabled disparate research to be drawn together in an innovative way.Results:A growing body of research has discovered that the appendix plays an important role in the gut immune system and maintaining gut health. It acts as a reservoir of good bacteria that repopulates the gut after pathogenic challenge. This is particularly important for people with impaired immune systems, such as those that occur in extreme environments. Appendicitis can often be successfully treated with intravenous antibiotics. Prophylactic appendectomy is not without risk, as 1:4 to 1:3 people will encounter some sort of postoperative complication. After an appendectomy, there is an increased risk of many serious medical conditions, including intra-abdominal adhesions, ischaemic heart disease, inflammatory and irritable bowel diseases, rheumatoid arthritis, and many others.Discussion:The increased morbidity and mortality associated with appendectomy is costly for individuals (the burden of disease) and society (health economics). It also poses a currently unappreciated health risk for long-term off-world expeditions.

AbstractThe Protocol on Environmental Protection to the Antarctic Treaty requires that past and present work sites be cleaned up unless removal would result in greater adverse environmental impact than leaving the contaminant in its existing location. In the early 1990s Australia began the documentation of contaminated sites associated with its research stations, which resulted in an extensive record of contamination at abandoned stations and waste-disposal sites. Currently the technical capability to remediate these sites does not exist because of environmental challenges that are unique to the cold regions. Investigations indicate that clean-up operations in the past have proceeded without adequate precautions and without effective monitoring. To address these problems, three research priorities have been identified to assist meeting international and national obligations to clean up these sites. They are: understanding contaminant mobilisation processes; development of ecological risk assessment for use in monitoring and setting priorities; and development of clean-up and remediation procedures. This study provides sufficient information to guide the completion of a clean-up at Casey Station and to indicate how other similar sites should be managed. The next stage is to develop the theory into an operational plan to include detailed protocols for clean-up, monitoring, site remediation, and management of the waste stream from site to final repository. To achieve this, the Australian Antarctic Division has established a contaminated sites taskforce to facilitate the transition from research and development of techniques to implementation of suitable clean-up options.

Abstract. Scientific research, respect for the environment, and passion for photography merged into an exceptional heritage of images collected by the researchers and technicians of the National Institute of Oceanography and Applied Geophysics (OGS). The images were taken during past scientific expeditions conducted all over the world to widen scientific knowledge in the fields of Earth and ocean sciences, to raise awareness on the environment and conservation of natural resources, and to mitigate natural risks. In this paper, we describe a photographic exhibition organized using some of the OGS images to draw public attention to the striking effects of global warming. In the artistic images displayed, the glaciers were the protagonists. Their infinite greyish blue shades and impossible shapes were worthy of a great sculptor, and the boundaries with rocks or with the sea were sometimes sharp and dramatic and sometimes so nuanced that they looked like watercolours. The beauty of the images attracted the attention of the public to unknown realities, allowing us to document the dramatic retreat of the Alpine glaciers and to show the majesty of the Arctic and Antarctic landscapes, which are fated to vanish under the present climate warming trend. The choice of the exhibition location allowed us to reach a broad public of working-age adults, who are difficult to involve in outreach events. The creators of the images were present during the exhibition to respond to visitors' curiosity about research targets, the emotional and environmental context, and the technical details or aesthetic choices of the photographs.

Abstract. Snow over sea ice controls energy budgets and affects sea ice growth and melting and thus has essential effects on the climate. Passive microwave radiometers can be used for basin-scale snow depth estimation at a daily scale; however, previously published methods applied to the Antarctic clearly underestimated snow depth, limiting their further application. Here, we estimated snow depth using passive microwave radiometers and a newly constructed, robust method by incorporating lower frequencies, which have been available from AMSR-E and AMSR-2 since 2002. A regression analysis using 7 years of Operation IceBridge (OIB) airborne snow depth measurements showed that the gradient ratio (GR) calculated using brightness temperatures in vertically polarized 37 and 7 GHz, i.e. GR(37/7), was optimal for deriving Antarctic snow depth, with a correlation coefficient of −0.64. We hence derived new coefficients based on GR(37/7) to improve the current snow depth estimation from passive microwave radiometers. Comparing the new retrieval with in situ measurements from the Australian Antarctic Data Centre showed that this method outperformed the previously available method (i.e. linear regression model based on GR(37/19)), with a mean difference of 5.64 cm and an RMSD of 13.79 cm, compared to values of −14.47 and 19.49 cm, respectively. A comparison to shipborne observations from Antarctic Sea Ice Processes and Climate indicated that in thin-ice regions, the proposed method performed slightly better than the previous method (with RMSDs of 16.85 and 17.61 cm, respectively). We generated a complete snow depth product over Antarctic sea ice from 2002 to 2020 on a daily scale, and negative trends could be found in all sea sectors and seasons. This dataset (including both snow depth and snow depth uncertainty) can be downloaded from the National Tibetan Plateau Data Center, Institute of Tibetan Plateau Research, Chinese Academy of Sciences at http://data.tpdc.ac.cn/en/disallow/61ea8177-7177-4507-aeeb-0c7b653d6fc3/ (last access: 7 February 2022) (Shen and Ke, 2021, https://doi.org/10.11888/Snow.tpdc.271653).

Purpose The following paper is a “Q&A interview” conducted by Joanne Pransky of Industrial Robot journal as a method to impart the combined technological, business and personal experience of a prominent, robotic industry engineer-turned successful innovator and leader, regarding the challenges of bringing technological discoveries to fruition. The paper aims to discuss these issues. Design/methodology/approach The interviewee is Gianmarco Veruggio who is responsible for the Operational Unit of Genoa of the Italian National Research Council Institute of Electronics, Computer and Telecommunication Engineering (CNR-IEIIT). Veruggio is an early pioneer of telerobotics in extreme environments. Veruggio founded the new applicative field of Roboethics. In this interview, Veruggio shares some of his 30-year robotic journey along with his thoughts and concerns on robotics and society. Findings Gianmarco Veruggio received a master’s degree in electronic engineering, computer science, control and automation from Genoa University in 1980. From 1980 to 1983 he worked in the Automation Division of Ansaldo as a Designer of fault-tolerant multiprocessor architectures for fail-safe control systems and was part of the development team for the new automation of the Italian Railway Stations. In 1984, he joined the CNR-Institute of Naval Automation (IAN) in Genoa as a Research Scientist. There, he worked on real-time computer graphics for simulation, control techniques and naval and marine data-collection systems. In 1989, he founded the CNR-IAN Robotics Department (Robotlab), which he headed until 2003, to develop missions on experimental robotics in extreme environments. His approach utilized working prototypes in a virtual lab environment and focused on robot mission control, real-time human-machine interfaces, networked control system architectures for tele-robotics and Internet Robotics. In 2000, he founded the association “Scuola di Robotica” (School of Robotics) to promote this new science among young people and society at large by means of educational robotics. He joined the CNR-IEIIT in 2007 to continue his research in robotics and to also develop studies on the philosophical, social and ethical implications of Robotics. Originality/value Veruggio led the first Italian underwater robotics campaigns in Antarctica during the Italian expeditions in 1993, 1997 and 2001, and in the Arctic during 2002. During the 2001-2002 Antarctic expedition, he carried out the E-Robot Project, the first experiment of internet robotics via satellite in the Antarctica. In 2002, he designed and developed the Project E-Robot2, the first experiment of worldwide internet robotics ever carried out in the Arctic. During these projects, he organized a series of “live-science” sessions in collaboration with students and teachers of Italian schools. Beginning with his new “School of Robotics”, Veruggio continued to disseminate and educate young people on the complex relationship between robotics and society. This led him to coin the term and propose the concept of Roboethics in 2002, and he has since made worldwide efforts at dedicating resources to the development of this new field. He was the General Chair of the “First International Symposium on Roboethics” in 2004 and of the “EURON Roboethics Atelier” in 2006 that produced the Roboethics Roadmap. Veruggio is the author of more than 150 scientific publications. In 2006, he was presented with the Ligurian Region Award for Innovation, and in 2009, for his merits in the field of science and society, he was awarded the title of Commander of the Order of Merit of the Italian Republic, one of Italy’s highest civilian honors.

It is January 1930 and the restless Southern Ocean is heaving itself up against the frozen coast of Eastern Antarctica. For hundreds of kilometres, this coastline consists entirely of ice: although Antarctica is a continent, only 2% of its surface consists of exposed rock; the rest is buried under a vast frozen mantle. But there is rock in this coastal scene: silhouetted against the glaring white of the glacial shelf, a barren island humps up out of the water. Slowly and cautiously, the Discovery approaches the island through uncharted waters; the crew’s eyes strain in the frigid air as they scour the ocean’s surface for ship-puncturing bergs. The approach to the island is difficult, but Captain Davis maintains the Discovery on its course as the wind howls in the rigging. Finally, the ship can go no further; the men lower a boat into the tossing sea. They pull hard at the oars until the boat is abreast of the island, and then they ram the bow against its icy littoral. Now one of the key moments of this exploratory expedition—officially titled the British, Australian, and New Zealand Antarctic Research Expedition (BANZARE)—is about to occur: the expedition is about to succeed in its primary spatial mission. Douglas Mawson, the Australian leader of the expedition, puts his feet onto the island and ascends to its bleak summit. There, he and his crew assemble a mound of loose stones and insert into it the flagpole they’ve carried with them across the ocean. Mawson reads an official proclamation of territorial annexation (see Bush 118-19), the photographer Frank Hurley shoots the moment on film, and one of the men hauls the Union Jack up the pole. Until the Australian Flags Act of 1953, the Union Jack retained seniority over the Australian flag. BANZARE took place before the 1931 Statute of Westminster, which gave full political and foreign policy independence to Commonwealth countries, thus Mawson claimed Antarctic space on behalf of Britain. He did so with the understanding that Britain would subsequently grant Australia title to its own Antarctican space. Britain did so in 1933. In the freezing wind, the men take off their hats, give three cheers for the King, and sing “God Save the King.” They deposit a copy of the proclamation into a metal canister and affix this to the flagpole; for a moment they admire the view. But there is little time to savour the moment, or the feeling of solid ground under their cold feet: the ship is waiting and the wind is growing in force. The men row back to the Discovery; Mawson returns to his cabin and writes up the event. A crucial moment in Antarctica’s spatial history has occurred: on what Mawson has aptly named Proclamation Island, Antarctica has been produced as Australian space. But how, exactly, does this production of Antarctica as a spatial possession work? How does this moment initiate the transformation of six million square kilometres of Antarctica—42% of the continent—into Australian space? The answer to this question lies in three separate, but articulated cultural technologies: representation, the body of the explorer, and international territorial law. When it comes to thinking about ‘turf’, Antarctica may at first seem an odd subject of analysis. Physically, Antarctica is a turfless space, an entire continent devoid of grass, plants, land-based animals, or trees. Geopolitically, Antarctica remains the only continent on which no turf wars have been fought: British and Argentinian soldiers clashed over the occupation of a Peninsular base in the Hope Bay incident of 1952 (Dodds 56), but beyond this somewhat bathetic skirmish, Antarctican space has never been the object of physical conflict. Further, as Antarctica has no indigenous human population, its space remains free of the colonial turfs of dispossession, invasion, and loss. The Antarctic Treaty of 1961 formalised Antarctica’s geopolitically turfless status, stipulating that the continent was to be used for peaceful purposes only, and stating that Antarctica was an internationally shared space of harmony and scientific goodwill. So why address Antarctican spatiality here? Two motivations underpin this article’s anatomising of Australia’s Antarctican space. First, too often Antarctica is imagined as an entirely homogeneous space: a vast white plain dotted here and there along its shifting coast by identical scientific research stations inhabited by identical bearded men. Similarly, the complexities of Antarctica’s geopolitical and legal spaces are often overlooked in favour of a vision of the continent as a site of harmonious uniformity. While it is true that the bulk of Antarctican space is ice, the assumption that its cultural spatialities are identical is far from the case: this article is part of a larger endeavour to provide a ‘thick’ description of Antarctican spatialities, one which points to the heterogeneity of cultural geographies of the polar south. The Australian polar spatiality installed by Mawson differs radically from that of, for example, Chile; in a continent governed by international consensus, it is crucial that the specific cultural geographies and spatial histories of Treaty participants be clearly understood. Second, attending to complexities of Antarctican spatiality points up the intersecting cultural technologies involved in spatial production, cultural technologies so powerful that, in the case of Antarctica, they transformed nearly half of a distant continent into Australian sovereign space. This article focuses its critical attention on three core spatialising technologies, a trinary that echoes Henri Lefebvre’s influential tripartite model of spatiality: this article attends to Australian Antarctic representation, practise, and the law. At the turn of the twentieth century, Scott, Shackleton, and Amundsen trooped over the polar plateau, and Antarctic space became a setting for symbolic Edwardian performances of heroic imperial masculinity and ‘frontier’ hardiness. At the same time, a second, less symbolic, type of Antarctican spatiality began to evolve: for the first time, Antarctica became a potential territorial possession; it became the object of expansionist geopolitics. Based in part on Scott’s expeditions, Britain declared sovereignty over an undefined area of the continent in 1908, and France declared Antarctic space its own in 1924; by the late 1920s, what John Agnew and Stuart Corbridge refer to as the nation-state ontology—that is, the belief that land should and must be divided into state-owned units—had arrived in Antarctica. What the Adelaide Advertiser’s 8 April 1929 headline referred to as “A Scramble for Antarctica” had begun. The British Imperial Conference of 1926 concluded that the entire continent should become a possession of Britain and its dominions, New Zealand and Australia (Imperial). Thus, in 1929, BANZARE set sail into the brutal Southern Ocean. Although the expedition included various scientists, its primary mission was not to observe Antarctican space, but to take possession of it: as the expedition’s instructions from Australian Prime Minister Bruce stated, BANZARE’s mission was to produce Antarctica as Empire’s—and by extension, Australia’s—sovereign space (Jacka and Jacka 251). With the moment described in the first paragraph of this article, along with four other such moments, BANZARE succeeded; just how it did so is the focus of this work. It is by now axiomatic in spatial studies that the job of imperial explorers is not to locate landforms, but to produce a discursive space. “The early travellers,” as Paul Carter notes of Australian explorers, “invented places rather than found them” (51). Numerous analytical investigations attend to the discursive power of exploration: in Australia, Carter’s Road to Botany Bay, Simon Ryan’s Cartographic Eye, Ross Gibson’s Diminishing Paradise, and Brigid Hains’s The Ice and the Inland, to name a few, lay bare the textual strategies through which the imperial annexation of “new” spaces was legitimated and enabled. Discursive territoriality was certainly a core product of BANZARE: as this article’s opening paragraph demonstrates, one of the key missions of BANZARE was not simply to perform rituals of spatial possession, but to textualise them for popular and governmental consumption. Within ten months of the expedition’s return, Hurley’s film Southward Ho! With Mawson was touring Australia. BANZARE consisted of two separate trips to Antarctica; Southward Ho! documents the first of these, while Siege of the South documents the both the first and the second, 1930-1, mission. While there is not space here to provide a detailed textual analysis of the entire film, a focus on the “Proclamation Island moment” usefully points up some of the film’s central spatialising work. Hurley situated the Proclamation Island scene at the heart of the film; the scene was so important that Hurley wished he had been able to shoot two hours of footage of Mawson’s island performance (Ayres 194). This scene in the film opens with a long shot of the land and sea around the island; a soundtrack of howling wind not only documents the brutal conditions in which the expedition worked, but also emphasises the emptiness of Antarctican space prior to its “discovery” by Mawson: in this shot, the film visually confirms Antarctica’s status as an available terra nullius awaiting cooption into Australian understanding, and into Australian national space. The film then cuts to a close-up of Mawson raising the flag; the sound of the wind disappears as Mawson begins to read the proclamation of possession. It is as if Mawson’s proclamation of possession stills the protean chaos of unclaimed Antarctic space by inviting it into the spatial order of national territory: at this moment, Antarctica’s agency is symbolically subsumed by Mawson’s acquisitive words. As the scene ends, the camera once again pans over the surrounding sea and ice scape, visually confirming the impact of Mawson’s—and the film’s—performance: all this, the shot implies, is now made meaningful; all this is now understood, recorded, and, most importantly, all this is now ours. A textual analysis of this filmic moment might identify numerous other spatialising strategies at work: its conflation of Mawson’s and the viewer’s proprietary gazes (Ryan), its invocation of the sublime, or its legitimising conflation of the ‘purity’ of the whiteness of the landscape with the whiteness of its claimants (Dyer 21). However, the spatial productivity of this moment far exceeds the discursive. What is at times frustrating about discourse analyses of spatiality is that they too often fail to articulate representation to other, equally potent, cultural technologies of spatial production. John Wylie notes that “on the whole, accounts of early twentieth-century Antarctic exploration exhibit a particular tendency to position and interpret exploratory experience in terms of self-contained discursive ensembles” (170). Despite the undisputed power of textuality, discourse alone does not, and cannot, produce a spatial possession. “Discursive and representational practices,” as Jane Jacobs observes, “are in a mutually constitutive relationship with political and economic forces” (9); spatiality, in other words, is not simply a matter of texts. In order to understand fully the process of Antarctican spatial acquisition, it is necessary to depart from tales of exploration and ships and flags, and to focus on the less visceral spatiality of international territorial law. Or, more accurately, it is necessary to address the mutual imbrication of these two articulated spatialising “domains of practice” (Dixon). The emerging field of critical legal geography is founded on the premise that legal analyses of territoriality neglect the spatial dimension of their investigations; rather than seeing the law as a means of spatial production, they position space as a neutral, universally-legible entity which is neatly governed by the “external variable” of territorial law (Blomley 28). “In the hegemonic conception of the law,” Wesley Pue argues, “the entire world is transmuted into one vast isotropic surface” (568) upon which law acts. Nicholas Blomley asserts, however, that law is not a neutral organiser of space, but rather a cultural technology of spatial production. Territorial laws, in other words, make spaces, and don’t simply govern them. When Mawson planted the flag and read the proclamation, he was producing Antarctica as a legal space as well as a discursive one. Today’s international territorial laws derive directly from European imperialism: as European empires expanded, they required a spatial system that would protect their newly-annexed lands, and thus they developed a set of laws of territorial acquisition and possession. Undergirding these laws is the ontological premise that space is divisible into state-owned sovereign units. At international law, space can be acquired by its imperial claimants in one of three main ways: through conquest, cession (treaty), or through “the discovery of terra nullius” (see Triggs 2). Antarctica and Australia remain the globe’s only significant spaces to be transformed into possessions through the last of these methods. In the spatiality of the international law of discovery, explorers are not just government employees or symbolic representatives, but vessels of enormous legal force. According to international territorial law, sovereign title to “new” territory—land defined (by Europeans) as terra nullius, or land belonging to no one—can be established through the eyes, feet, codified ritual performances, and documents of explorers. That is, once an authorised explorer—Mawson carried documents from both the Australian Prime Minister and the British King that invested his body and his texts with the power to transform land into a possession—saw land, put his foot on it, planted a flag, read a proclamation, then documented these acts in words and maps, that land became a possession. These performative rituals and their documentation activate the legal spatiality of territorial acquisition; law here is revealed as a “bundle of practices” that produce space as a possession (Ford 202). What we witness when we attend to Mawson’s island performance, then, is not merely a discursive performance, but also the transformation of Antarctica into a legal space of possession. Similarly, the films and documents generated by the expedition are more than just a “sign system of human ambition” (Tang 190), they are evidence, valid at law, of territorial possession. They are key components of Australia’s legal currency of Antarctican spatial purchase. What is of central importance here is that Mawson’s BANZARE performance on Proclamation Island is a moment in which the dryly legal, the bluntly physical, and the densely textual clearly intersect in the creation of space as a possession. Australia did not take possession of forty-two percent of Antarctica after BANZARE by law, by exploration, or by representation alone. The Australian government built its Antarctic space with letters patent and legal documents. BANZARE produced Australia’s Antarctic possession through the physical and legal rituals of flag-planting, proclamation-reading, and exploration. BANZARE further contributed to Australia’s polar empire with maps, journals, photos and films, and cadastral lists of the region’s animals, minerals, magnetic fields, and winds. The law of “discovery of terra nullius” coalesced these spaces into a territory officially designated as Australian. It is crucial to recognise that the production of nearly half of Antarctica as Australian space was, and is not a matter of discourse, of physical performance, or of law alone. Rather, these three cultural technologies of spatial production are mutually imbricated; none can function without the others, nor is one reducible to an epiphenomenon of another. To focus on the discursive products of BANZARE without attending to the expedition’s legal work not only downplays the significance of Mawson’s spatialising achievement, but also blinds us to the role that law plays in the production of space. Attending to Mawson’s Proclamation Island moment points to the unique nature of Australia’s Antarctic spatiality: unlike the US, which constructs Antarctic spatiality as entirely non-sovereign; and unlike Chile, which bases its Antarctic sovereignty claim on Papal Bulls and acts of domestic colonisation, Australian Antarctic space is a spatiality of possession, founded on a bedrock of imperial exploration, representation, and law. Seventy-four years ago, the camera whirred as a man stuck a flagpole into the bleak summit rocks of a small Antarctic island: six million square kilometres of Antarctica became, and remain, Australian space. Works Cited Agnew, John, and Stuart Corbridge. Mastering Space: Hegemony, Territory and International Political Economy. London: Routledge, 1995. Ayres, Philip. Mawson: A Life. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 1999. Blomley, Nicholas. Law, Space, and the Geographies of Power. New York: Guilford, 1994. Bush, W. M. Antarctica and International Law: A Collection of Inter-State and National Documents. Vol. 2. London: Oceana, 1982. Carter, Paul. The Road to Botany Bay: An Essay in Spatial History. London: Faber, 1987. Dixon, Rob. Prosthetic Gods: Travel, Representation and Colonial Governance. Brisbane: UQP, 2001. Dodds, Klaus. Geopolitics in Antarctica: Views from the Southern Oceanic Rim. Chichester: Wiley, 1997. Dyer, Richard. White. London: Routledge, 1997. Ford, Richard. “Law’s Territory (A History of Jurisdiction).” The Legal Geographies Reader. Ed. Nicholas Blomley and Richard Ford. Oxford: Blackwell, 2001. 200-17. Gibson, Ross. The Diminishing Paradise: Changing Literary Perceptions of Australia. Sydney: Sirius, 1984. Hains, Brigid. The Ice and the Inland: Mawson, Flynn, and the Myth of the Frontier. Melbourne: Melbourne UP, 2002. Imperial Conference, 1926. Summary of Proceedings. London: His Majesty’s Stationary Office, 1926. Jacka, Fred, and Eleanor Jacka, eds. Mawson’s Antarctic Diaries. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 1988. Jacobs, Jane. Edge of Empire: Postcolonialism and the City. London: Routledge, 1996. Pue, Wesley. “Wrestling with Law: (Geographical) Specificity versus (Legal) Abstraction.” Urban Geography 11.6 (1990): 566-85. Ryan, Simon. The Cartographic Eye: How the Explorers Saw Australia. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996. Tang, David. “Writing on Antarctica.” Room 5 1 (2000): 185-95. Triggs, Gillian. International Law and Australian Sovereignty in Antarctica. Sydney: Legal, 1986. Wylie, John. “Earthly Poles: The Antarctic Voyages of Scott and Amundsen.” Postcolonial Geographies. Ed Alison Blunt and Cheryl McEwan. London: Continuum, 2002. 169-83. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Collis, Christy. "Australia’s Antarctic Turf" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/02-feature-australia.php>. APA Style Collis, C. (2004, Mar17). Australia’s Antarctic Turf. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture,7,<http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/02-feature australia.php>

IntroductionTasmania hangs from the map of Australia like a drop in freefall from the substance of the mainland. Often the whole state is mislaid from Australian maps and logos (Reddit). Tasmania has, at least since federation, been considered peripheral—a region seen as isolated, a ‘problem’ economically, politically, and culturally. However, Tasmania not only cleaves to the ‘north island’ of Australia but is also subject to the gravitational pull of an even greater land mass—Antarctica. In this article, we upturn the political conventions of map-making that place both Antarctica and Tasmania in obscure positions at the base of the globe. We show how a changing global climate re-frames Antarctica and the Southern Ocean as key drivers of worldwide environmental shifts. The liquid and solid water between Tasmania and Antarctica is revealed not as a homogenous barrier, but as a dynamic and relational medium linking the Tasmanian archipelago with Antarctica. When Antarctica becomes the focus, the script is flipped: Tasmania is no longer on the edge, but core to a network of gateways into the southern land. The state’s capital of Hobart can from this perspective be understood as an “Antarctic city”, central to the geopolitics, economy, and culture of the frozen continent (Salazar et al.). Viewed from the south, we argue, Tasmania is not a problem, but an opportunity for a form of ecological, cultural, economic, and political sustainability that opens up the southern continent to science, discovery, and imagination.A Centre at the End of the Earth? Tasmania as ParadoxThe islands of Tasmania owe their existence to climate change: a period of warming at the end of the last ice age melted the vast sheets of ice covering the polar regions, causing sea levels to rise by more than one hundred metres (Tasmanian Climate Change Office 8). Eleven thousand years ago, Aboriginal people would have witnessed the rise of what is now called Bass Strait, turning what had been a peninsula into an archipelago, with the large island of Tasmania at its heart. The heterogeneous practices and narratives of Tasmanian regional identity have been shaped by the geography of these islands, and their connection to the Southern Ocean and Antarctica. Regions, understood as “centres of collective consciousness and sociospatial identities” (Paasi 241) are constantly reproduced and reimagined through place-based social practices and communications over time. As we will show, diverse and contradictory narratives of Tasmanian regionality often co-exist, interacting in complex and sometimes complementary ways. Ecocritical literary scholar C.A. Cranston considers duality to be embedded in the textual construction of Tasmania, writing “it was hell, it was heaven, it was penal, it was paradise” (29). Tasmania is multiply polarised: it is both isolated and connected; close and far away; rich in resources and poor in capital; the socially conservative birthplace of radical green politics (Hay 60). The weather, as if sensing the fine balance of these paradoxes, blows hot and cold at a moment’s notice.Tasmania has wielded extraordinary political influence at times in its history—notably during the settlement of Melbourne in 1835 (Boyce), and during protests against damming the Franklin River in the early 1980s (Mercer). However, twentieth-century historical and political narratives of Tasmania portray the Bass Strait as a barrier, isolating Tasmanians from the mainland (Harwood 61). Sir Bede Callaghan, who headed one of a long line of federal government inquiries into “the Tasmanian problem” (Harwood 106), was clear that Tasmania was a victim of its own geography:the major disability facing the people of Tasmania (although some residents may consider it an advantage) is that Tasmania is an island. Separation from the mainland adversely affects the economy of the State and the general welfare of the people in many ways. (Callaghan 3)This perspective may stem from the fact that Tasmania has maintained the lowest Gross Domestic Product per capita of all states since federation (Bureau of Infrastructure Transport and Regional Economics 9). Socially, economically, and culturally, Tasmania consistently ranks among the worst regions of Australia. Statistical comparisons with other parts of Australia reveal the population’s high unemployment, low wages, poor educational outcomes, and bad health (West 31). The state’s remoteness and isolation from the mainland states and its reliance on federal income have contributed to the whole of Tasmania, including Hobart, being classified as ‘regional’ by the Australian government, in an attempt to promote immigration and economic growth (Department of Infrastructure and Regional Development 1). Tasmania is indeed both regional and remote. However, in this article we argue that, while regionality may be cast as a disadvantage, the island’s remote location is also an asset, particularly when viewed from a far southern perspective (Image 1).Image 1: Antarctica (Orthographic Projection). Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons, Modified Shading of Tasmania and Addition of Captions by H. Nielsen.Connecting Oceans/Collapsing DistanceTasmania and Antarctica have been closely linked in the past—the future archipelago formed a land bridge between Antarctica and northern land masses until the opening of the Tasman Seaway some 32 million years ago (Barker et al.). The far south was tangible to the Indigenous people of the island in the weather blowing in from the Southern Ocean, while the southern lights, or “nuyina”, formed a visible connection (Australia’s new icebreaker vessel is named RSV Nuyina in recognition of these links). In the contemporary Australian imagination, Tasmania tends to be defined by its marine boundaries, the sea around the islands represented as flat, empty space against which to highlight the topography of its landscape and the isolation of its position (Davies et al.). A more relational geographic perspective illuminates the “power of cross-currents and connections” (Stratford et al. 273) across these seascapes. The sea country of Tasmania is multiple and heterogeneous: the rough, shallow waters of the island-scattered Bass Strait flow into the Tasman Sea, where the continental shelf descends toward an abyssal plain studded with volcanic seamounts. To the south, the Southern Ocean provides nutrient-rich upwellings that attract fish and cetacean populations. Tasmania’s coast is a dynamic, liminal space, moving and changing in response to the global currents that are driven by the shifting, calving and melting ice shelves and sheets in Antarctica.Oceans have long been a medium of connection between Tasmania and Antarctica. In the early colonial period, when the seas were the major thoroughfares of the world and inland travel was treacherous and slow, Tasmania’s connection with the Southern Ocean made it a valuable hub for exploration and exploitation of the south. Between 1642 and 1900, early European explorers were followed by British penal colonists, convicts, sealers, and whalers (Kriwoken and Williamson 93). Tasmania was well known to polar explorers, with expeditions led by Jules Dumont d’Urville, James Clark Ross, Roald Amundsen, and Douglas Mawson all transiting through the port of Hobart. Now that the city is no longer a whaling hub, growing populations of cetaceans continue to migrate past the islands on their annual journeys from the tropics, across the Sub-Antarctic Front and Antarctic circumpolar current, and into the south polar region, while southern species such as leopard seals are occasionally seen around Tasmania (Tasmania Parks and Wildlife). Although the water surrounding Tasmania and Antarctica is at times homogenised as a ‘barrier’, rendering these places isolated, the bodies of water that surround both are in fact permeable, and regularly crossed by both humans and marine species. The waters are diverse in their physical characteristics, underlying topography, sea life, and relationships, and serve to connect many different ocean regions, ecosystems, and weather patterns.Views from the Far SouthWhen considered in terms of its relative proximity to Antarctic, rather than its distance from Australia’s political and economic centres, Tasmania’s identity undergoes a significant shift. A sign at Cockle Creek, in the state’s far south, reminds visitors that they are closer to Antarctica than to Cairns, invoking a discourse of connectedness that collapses the standard ten-day ship voyage to Australia’s closest Antarctic station into a unit comparable with the routinely scheduled 5.5 hour flight to North Queensland. Hobart is the logistical hub for the Australian Antarctic Division and the French Institut Polaire Francais (IPEV), and has hosted Antarctic vessels belonging to the USA, South Korea, and Japan in recent years. From a far southern perspective, Hobart is not a regional Australian capital but a global polar hub. This alters the city’s geographic imaginary not only in a latitudinal sense—from “top down” to “bottom up”—but also a longitudinal one. Via its southward connection to Antarctica, Hobart is also connected east and west to four other recognized gateways: Cape Town in South Africa, Christchurch in New Zealand; Punta Arenas in Chile; and Ushuaia in Argentina (Image 2). The latter cities are considered small by international standards, but play an outsized role in relation to Antarctica.Image 2: H. Nielsen with a Sign Announcing Distances between Antarctic ‘Gateway’ Cities and Antarctica, Ushuaia, Argentina, 2018. Image Credit: Nicki D'Souza.These five cities form what might be called—to adapt geographer Klaus Dodds’ term—a ‘Southern Rim’ around the South Polar region (Dodds Geopolitics). They exist in ambiguous relationship to each other. Although the five cities signed a Statement of Intent in 2009 committing them to collaboration, they continue to compete vigorously for northern hemisphere traffic and the brand identity of the most prominent global gateway. A state government brochure spruiks Hobart, for example, as the “perfect Antarctic Gateway” emphasising its uniqueness and “natural advantages” in this regard (Tasmanian Government, 2016). In practice, the cities are automatically differentiated by their geographic position with respect to Antarctica. Although the ‘ice continent’ is often conceived as one entity, it too has regions, in both scientific and geographical senses (Terauds and Lee; Antonello). Hobart provides access to parts of East Antarctica, where the Australian, French, Japanese, and Chinese programs (among others) have bases; Cape Town is a useful access point for Europeans going to Dronning Maud Land; Christchurch is closest to the Ross Sea region, site of the largest US base; and Punta Arenas and Ushuaia neighbour the Antarctic Peninsula, home to numerous bases as well as a thriving tourist industry.The Antarctic sector is important to the Tasmanian economy, contributing $186 million (AUD) in 2017/18 (Wells; Gutwein; Tasmanian Polar Network). Unsurprisingly, Tasmania’s gateway brand has been actively promoted, with the 2016 Australian Antarctic Strategy and 20 Year Action Plan foregrounding the need to “Build Tasmania’s status as the premier East Antarctic Gateway for science and operations” and the state government releasing a “Tasmanian Antarctic Gateway Strategy” in 2017. The Chinese Antarctic program has been a particular focus: a Memorandum of Understanding focussed on Australia and China’s Antarctic relations includes a “commitment to utilise Australia, including Tasmania, as an Antarctic ‘gateway’.” (Australian Antarctic Division). These efforts towards a closer relationship with China have more recently come under attack as part of a questioning of China’s interests in the region (without, it should be noted, a concomitant questioning of Australia’s own considerable interests) (Baker 9). In these exchanges, a global power and a state of Australia generally classed as regional and peripheral are brought into direct contact via the even more remote Antarctic region. This connection was particularly visible when Chinese President Xi Jinping travelled to Hobart in 2014, in a visit described as both “strategic” and “incongruous” (Burden). There can be differences in how this relationship is narrated to domestic and international audiences, with issues of sovereignty and international cooperation variously foregrounded, laying the ground for what Dodds terms “awkward Antarctic nationalism” (1).Territory and ConnectionsThe awkwardness comes to a head in Tasmania, where domestic and international views of connections with the far south collide. Australia claims sovereignty over almost 6 million km2 of the Antarctic continent—a claim that in area is “roughly the size of mainland Australia minus Queensland” (Bergin). This geopolitical context elevates the importance of a regional part of Australia: the claims to Antarctic territory (which are recognised only by four other claimant nations) are performed not only in Antarctic localities, where they are made visible “with paraphernalia such as maps, flags, and plaques” (Salazar 55), but also in Tasmania, particularly in Hobart and surrounds. A replica of Mawson’s Huts in central Hobart makes Australia’s historic territorial interests in Antarctica visible an urban setting, foregrounding the figure of Douglas Mawson, the well-known Australian scientist and explorer who led the expeditions that proclaimed Australia’s sovereignty in the region of the continent roughly to its south (Leane et al.). Tasmania is caught in a balancing act, as it fosters international Antarctic connections (such hosting vessels from other national programs), while also playing a key role in administering what is domestically referred to as the Australian Antarctic Territory. The rhetoric of protection can offer common ground: island studies scholar Godfrey Baldacchino notes that as island narratives have moved “away from the perspective of the ‘explorer-discoverer-colonist’” they have been replaced by “the perspective of the ‘custodian-steward-environmentalist’” (49), but reminds readers that a colonising disposition still lurks beneath the surface. It must be remembered that terms such as “stewardship” and “leadership” can undertake sovereignty labour (Dodds “Awkward”), and that Tasmania’s Antarctic connections can be mobilised for a range of purposes. When Environment Minister Greg Hunt proclaimed at a press conference that: “Hobart is the gateway to the Antarctic for the future” (26 Apr. 2016), the remark had meaning within discourses of both sovereignty and economics. Tasmania’s capital was leveraged as a way to position Australia as a leader in the Antarctic arena.From ‘Gateway’ to ‘Antarctic City’While discussion of Antarctic ‘Gateway’ Cities often focuses on the economic and logistical benefit of their Antarctic connections, Hobart’s “gateway” identity, like those of its counterparts, stretches well beyond this, encompassing geological, climatic, historical, political, cultural and scientific links. Even the southerly wind, according to cartoonist Jon Kudelka, “has penguins in it” (Image 3). Hobart residents feel a high level of connection to Antarctica. In 2018, a survey of 300 randomly selected residents of Greater Hobart was conducted under the umbrella of the “Antarctic Cities” Australian Research Council Linkage Project led by Assoc. Prof. Juan Francisco Salazar (and involving all three present authors). Fourteen percent of respondents reported having been involved in an economic activity related to Antarctica, and 36% had attended a cultural event about Antarctica. Connections between the southern continent and Hobart were recognised as important: 71.9% agreed that “people in my city can influence the cultural meanings that shape our relationship to Antarctica”, while 90% agreed or strongly agreed that Hobart should play a significant role as a custodian of Antarctica’s future, and 88.4% agreed or strongly agreed that: “How we treat Antarctica is a test of our approach to ecological sustainability.” Image 3: “The Southerly” Demonstrates How Weather Connects Hobart and Antarctica. Image Credit: Jon Kudelka, Reproduced with Permission.Hobart, like the other gateways, activates these connections in its conscious place-branding. The city is particularly strong as a centre of Antarctic research: signs at the cruise-ship terminal on the waterfront claim that “There are more Antarctic scientists based in Hobart […] than at any other one place on earth, making Hobart a globally significant contributor to our understanding of Antarctica and the Southern Ocean.” Researchers are based at the Institute for Marine and Antarctic Studies (IMAS), the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO), and the Australian Antarctic Division (AAD), with several working between institutions. Many Antarctic researchers located elsewhere in the world also have a connection with the place through affiliations and collaborations, leading journalist Jo Chandler to assert that “the breadth and depth of Hobart’s knowledge of ice, water, and the life forms they nurture […] is arguably unrivalled anywhere in the world” (86).Hobart also plays a significant role in Antarctica’s governance, as the site of the secretariats for the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources (CCAMLR) and the Agreement on the Conservation of Albatrosses and Petrels (ACAP), and as host of the Antarctic Consultative Treaty Meetings on more than one occasion (1986, 2012). The cultural domain is active, with Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery (TMAG) featuring a permanent exhibit, “Islands to Ice”, emphasising the ocean as connecting the two places; the Mawson’s Huts Replica Museum aiming (among other things) to “highlight Hobart as the gateway to the Antarctic continent for the Asia Pacific region”; and a biennial Australian Antarctic Festival drawing over twenty thousand visitors, about a sixth of them from interstate or overseas (Hingley). Antarctic links are evident in the city’s natural and built environment: the dolerite columns of Mt Wellington, the statue of the Tasmanian Antarctic explorer Louis Bernacchi on the waterfront, and the wharfs that regularly accommodate icebreakers such as the Aurora Australis and the Astrolabe. Antarctica is figured as a southern neighbour; as historian Tom Griffiths puts it, Tasmanians “grow up with Antarctica breathing down their necks” (5). As an Antarctic City, Hobart mediates access to Antarctica both physically and in the cultural imaginary.Perhaps in recognition of the diverse ways in which a region or a city might be connected to Antarctica, researchers have recently been suggesting critical approaches to the ‘gateway’ label. C. Michael Hall points to a fuzziness in the way the term is applied, noting that it has drifted from its initial definition (drawn from economic geography) as denoting an access and supply point to a hinterland that produces a certain level of economic benefits. While Hall looks to keep the term robustly defined to avoid empty “local boosterism” (272–73), Gabriela Roldan aims to move the concept “beyond its function as an entry and exit door”, arguing that, among other things, the local community should be actively engaged in the Antarctic region (57). Leane, examining the representation of Hobart as a gateway in historical travel texts, concurs that “ingress and egress” are insufficient descriptors of Tasmania’s relationship with Antarctica, suggesting that at least discursively the island is positioned as “part of an Antarctic rim, itself sharing qualities of the polar region” (45). The ARC Linkage Project described above, supported by the Hobart City Council, the State Government and the University of Tasmania, as well as other national and international partners, aims to foster the idea of the Hobart and its counterparts as ‘Antarctic cities’ whose citizens act as custodians for the South Polar region, with a genuine concern for and investment in its future.Near and Far: Local Perspectives A changing climate may once again herald a shift in the identity of the Tasmanian islands. Recognition of the central role of Antarctica in regulating the global climate has generated scientific and political re-evaluation of the region. Antarctica is not only the planet’s largest heat sink but is the engine of global water currents and wind patterns that drive weather patterns and biodiversity across the world (Convey et al. 543). For example, Tas van Ommen’s research into Antarctic glaciology shows the tangible connection between increased snowfall in coastal East Antarctica and patterns of drought southwest Western Australia (van Ommen and Morgan). Hobart has become a global centre of marine and Antarctic science, bringing investment and development to the city. As the global climate heats up, Tasmania—thanks to its low latitude and southerly weather patterns—is one of the few regions in Australia likely to remain temperate. This is already leading to migration from the mainland that is impacting house prices and rental availability (Johnston; Landers 1). The region’s future is therefore closely entangled with its proximity to the far south. Salazar writes that “we cannot continue to think of Antarctica as the end of the Earth” (67). Shifting Antarctica into focus also brings Tasmania in from the margins. As an Antarctic city, Hobart assumes a privileged positioned on the global stage. This allows the city to present itself as central to international research efforts—in contrast to domestic views of the place as a small regional capital. The city inhabits dual identities; it is both on the periphery of Australian concerns and at the centre of Antarctic activity. Tasmania, then, is not in freefall, but rather at the forefront of a push to recognise Antarctica as entangled with its neighbours to the north.AcknowledgementsThis work was supported by the Australian Research Council under LP160100210.ReferencesAntonello, Alessandro. “Finding Place in Antarctica.” Antarctica and the Humanities. Eds. Peder Roberts, Lize-Marie van der Watt, and Adrian Howkins. London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016. 181–204.Australian Government. 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Abstract In 1981, the Scientific Committee on Antarctic Research endorsed a program for ship-based collection of Antarctic iceberg data, to be coordinated by the Norwegian Polar Institute (NPI). From the austral summers 1982/1983 to 1997/1998, icebergs were recorded from most, and up to 2009/10 by fewer research vessels. The NPI database makes up 80% of the SCAR International Iceberg Database presented here, the remainder being Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition observations. The database contains positions of 374 142 icebergs resulting from 34 662 observations. Within these, 298 235 icebergs are classified into different size categories. The ship-based data are particularly useful because they include systematic observations of smaller icebergs not covered by current satellite-based datasets. Here, we assess regional and seasonal variations in iceberg density and total quantities, we identify drift patterns and exit zones from the continent, and we discuss iceberg dissolution rates and calving rates. There are significant differences in the extent of icebergs observed over the 30 plus years of observations, but much of these can be ascribed to differences in observation density and location. In the summer, Antarctic icebergs >10 m in length number ~130 000 of which 1000 are found north of the Southern Ocean boundary.

Abstract In 1980, at the invitation of Australia, the first Chinese scientists went to Antarctica. China was therefore a relative ‘latecomer’ to engage in Antarctic science. In the period since its first Antarctic expedition in 1984, China's presence in Antarctica has expanded both in terms of its logistics and infrastructure and its scientific research. This paper outlines the development of China's national Antarctic programmes under the influence of corresponding national policies from the late 1970s to the present, noting the application of various scientific disciplines to Antarctic fields. The paper outlines and analyses the broadening and deepening of China's Antarctic science research, infrastructure and engagement.

ABSTRACT In Antarctica, human access and presence are complex and require detailed planning and preparation in advance. The personnel of National Antarctic Programs (NAPs, i.e., scientists and support personnel, including military, civilians, and mountaineers) stay in different isolation, confinement, and extreme (ICE) environments such as ships, research stations, and scientific summer camps. Antarctica imposes harsh conditions that influence physiological and psychological responses impacting health, mood, and physical and cognitive performances. In this context, we argue why people should prepare in advance for staying in Antarctica and what to expect in ICE environments. We also spotlighted recommendations shared by different NAPs participant guides, including predeployment training. Next, we present a case study of the Brazilian Pre-Antarctic Training (PAT), a theoretical-practical training that provides technical and logistical information and assesses the adaptability and physical capacity of researchers and military personnel to perform fundamental activities in a polar environment. We evaluated and compared the individual’s mood at the beginning and the end of the PAT week and observed group-specific mood changes depending on the sex, functions, and the facilities that participants accessed. Finally, we proposed that conducting training before staying in Antarctica, besides promoting conditions to better plan the voyage and knowledge of the region, can contribute to dealing with the possible mood swings during expeditions and even promote positive affect. Therefore, the psychophysiological effects of PAT are topics for further investigations.

Thirteen years ago, Kenichi Ohmae proclaimed that the world had become “borderless,” and the nation-state nothing more than a “bit actor” in a globalised economy. Around the same time, “interdisciplinarity” appeared as the prime strategy for breaking down the rigid stratifications of traditional disciplines, promising an equivalently borderless academe. However, despite the rhetoric of globalisation and interdisciplinarity, territorial boundaries—both physical and conceptual—remain in evidence and under contention. We chose Christy Collis’s article, “Australia’s Antartic Turf,” as our feature article because it foregrounds what we were most interested in: the collaboration between the physical and representational aspects of territory in the creation of “turf.” Ironically, as Collis notes, the territory she maps out—the Australian Antarctic Territory—is, in a physical sense, a “turfless space,” though it is one that is legally claimed as Australian turf. In this space, once again, we can see the collapsing of the literal and conceptual aspects of turf. Collis’s “anatomy” of Australia’s Antarctican space is exciting reading for questions of territorial claims and territorial representations and their implications. She informs us about the often forgotten complex geopolitical and legal aspects involved in such territory-making, and shows how these aspects, together with certain cultural spatialising technologies, have transformed vast areas of Antarctica into Australian sovereign space. As Collis’s article shows, the territories these practices mark out are not neutral spaces, but highly politicised turfs, themselves fragmented by conflicting interests and agendas. Eric D. Mason’s article, “Border-Building: Cultural Turf and the Maintenance of Hybridity,” examines the way in which, in the context of international capitalism, the border-eliding practice of hybridity is, paradoxically, fostered through the “strategic reinforcement of national and cultural borders.” The problems of this paradox are exemplified in “the idealistic American view of culture as a ‘melting pot’” in which disparate cultural identities are subsumed into a “greater national identity.” However, as Mason argues, the 9/11 attacks have shattered this homogeneous hybridity and “prompted a host of culturally-focused turf disputes ranging from the bombing of mosques to the deliberate dumping of French champagne.” In “Allegiance and Renunciation at the Border,” Brian J. Norman also addresses changes to U.S. immigration and citizenship policies post-9/11, but from a rhetorical standpoint. He examines the way in which the Bush administration responded to the attacks “with vigorous efforts to shore up national borders within a language of terrorism, evildoers, and the dire need for domestic security.” The Oath of Allegiance, he argues, is one such example of how rhetoric creates new political realities. Norman’s article, in this way, rethinks the figure of the immigrant and questions of citizenship within the context of state procedures, and considers these shifts as a result of newly inflamed discourses of terrorism and national security. This theme of the production and circulation of nationalism through language continues to run through Terrence Maybury’s article, “The Literacy Control Complex.” This article examines the literate domain and some of the changes it has experienced throughout the new media communications revolution. Maybury ultimately relates questions of literacy and its control to the concepts of sovereignty, territoriality, and nationalism. New media technologies are among the most effective and pervasive means for circulating and maintaining such politicised turfs, and, in “Transformations: A Nation State Responds,” Tim Dwyer looks specifically at these technologies in an Australian context. Dwyer addresses issues of “turf” as part of national debates about the institutional reshaping of media regulation at times of rapid changes within communications media. Using debates in Australia about how to merge the functions of the Australian Communications Authority and the Australian Broadcasting Authority as an example, he discusses social, technological, and politico-economic dimensions of regulatory policies. From these more geo-political and mediatised aspects of turf, our articles take a turn towards academic questions of disciplinary turf. Fred Mason’s story of his personal experiences of the academic “turf protection” maintained by traditional disciplines offers thoughts about interdisciplinarity and multidisciplinarity—those much-touted new prime strategies in cultural research. For Zach Whalen, games studies is a new field of cultural research at the edges of academe that must deal with the issues surrounding interdisciplinarity and multidisciplinarity raised by Fred Mason. He poses the question as to whether “ludology is sufficiently robust as a hypothetical academic discipline” to firmly establish games studies within the confines of the traditional university. He argues that the study of video games has been the subject of “a quiet disciplinary turf war between scholars who attempt to bring games into existing academic discourse communities and scholars who see games as an entirely unique medium warranting independent academic infrastructures.” Whalen’s conclusion is that, at present, ludology may not be able to resolve this turf war and, instead, games studies may be better considered as a “melting pot” of competing methodologies. Laurie Taylor’s article on the spaces of video games can be considered a telling counterpoint to Whalen’s for two reasons. First, Taylor shifts the focus from the disciplinary turf war of games studies to the internal turf spaces and violent turf wars within video games themselves. Second, her article exemplifies the way in which new fields of study carve out ideological territories that delimit critical language, critical practice, and the object of study. Taylor maintains that what has been lacking in the debate over violence in video games is an awareness of the relationship between the virtual game space and the physical space of play. She argues that “the internal game space of a video game cannot be examined outside of the space of play because the space of play dictates how the game is played and how the game space is to be read.” In some way, each of these articles portrays a “turf war,” which, by definition, relies upon competing claims for cultural, spatial, or intellectual exclusivity. However, the word “turf” itself is intrinsically transcultural, sharing an Indo-European root with the Sanskrit darbha or “tuft of grass.” Moreover, in this sense of the word, turf can be carved up and exploited, burned for fuel; however, as a living network of roots and soil, it is also resilient and transplantable. It is this aspect of “turf” that Michelle Dicinoski’s poem “Golf” draws out. Dicinoski’s poem gives us a living image of one such cultural grafting as she opens the geopolitics of “turf” up to the everyday, the tangible, the local, and the familial. In her humorous and personal way, Dicinoski distils the genealogy of “culture” that Raymond Williams maps out in Keywords. In the same way, we need to cultivate an attentiveness to the spatial metaphors we (and these articles) use to talk about knowledge. Traditional epistemology has been consistently defined in geographical terms—knowledge is surveyed and divided into fields, topics (from topos, or place), provinces, domains, realms, and spheres. Implied in this subdivision of epistemological territory is a mastery or dominance over knowledge, as the terms “subject” and “discipline” make evident. An awareness of these metaphors alerts us to the fact that the language we use is not neutral, apolitical, or simply academic. Critical encounters with “turf” are not mere rhetoric: they at once establish, erase, or contest borders both of knowledge and physical territory. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Mitchell, Peta & Buettner, Angi. "Editorial" M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/01-editorial.php>. APA Style Mitchell, P. & Buettner, A. (2004, Mar17). Editorial. M/C: A Journal of Media and Culture, 7, <http://www.media-culture.org.au/0403/01-editorial.php>

Open access to occurrence records in a standardised format has strong potential applications for many kinds of ecological research and bioresources management, including the assessment of invasion risks, formulation of nature protection, biomedical and management plans in the context of global climate and land-use changes both in the short and long perspective. The accumulation and aggregation of data on the occurrence records of small mammals are relevant for the study of biogeography and for ecological surveys including construction of the spatial distribution and ecological niche modelling of species ' distributions in the context of global climate change. The author has created a dataset of 2408 rodents and tree shrews occurrence records from Vietnam, collected from November 2007 to May 2022. A number of zoologist colleagues also provided genetic samples. A considerable part of these data has been published previously in a number of papers; however, most of these data have yet to be presented. These records cover a significant part of the range of many rodent species in Southeast Asia and provide new data on their distribution. The data were obtained during a number of different field expeditions, where some animals were caught by the author and some were provided by other researchers, resulting in different accuracy levels of geographic coordinates and altitude estimates may range from 10 to 1000 metres in area and from 1 to 100 metres for elevation. A number of samples were genetically examined to avoid inconsistencies with the taxonomic identification. With the help of colleagues, the author created a set of georeferenced occurrence records, adapted to the controlled vocabulary of Darwin Core format datasets, removed duplicates and standardised the format of records using commonly-used unified data structure. This paper presents the resulting dataset of rodents (mostly of Muridae and Sciuridae) along with other small terrestrial species (Scandentia Tupaidae) occurrence records in the territory of Vietnam and Laos. Much of the distribution data are currently available as open source GBIF databases and potentially may be combined into a united framework for better data resolution. The dataset presented here combines occurrence records of many species over a significant part of their recent natural range, in Vietnam and Laos. The author presents a validated and comprehensive dataset of rodents' occurrence records, based on genetic samples collection compiled during 15 years working in Vietnam (from 2007 to date). Prior to this project, a considerable part of the information about Vietnamese rodents was not available to a wide range of researchers to use these spatial data for analyses by modern methods, for example, for analysis based on geographic information systems (GIS technologies). This dataset now is available for any researchers who use the data format prepared in accordance with Darwin Core standards. For different countries of Southeast Asia and beyond, there are a lot of additional occurrence records for a number of species listed here which may be combined, but a considerable part of them is still scattered over a number of separate literary sources, while another is still presented as maps, field notes and huge amount of museum zoological collections records. The final set was created by a combination of species occurrence records and uniform data structure with verification of the samples' geographic coordinates. Most samples were genetically or/and morphologically verified for correct taxonomical identification, because the most part of the samples presented was carefully investigated by the author himself, both for morphology and genetic attribution. Therefore, the dataset expands the available information on the spatial and temporal distribution of a number of small mammals’ species in Southeast Asia. All original notes and geographical localities were carefully checked and any duplicate and erroneous records have been removed from the final dataset. To the date of publication of these data, the GBIF database https://www.gbif.org contained 1408 rodent occurrence records from Vietnam (Fig. 1) along with 240 Scandentia records (Fig. 2), primarily the data on museum materials, including four large collections, such as the Field Museum of Natural History (Zoology) Mammal Collection (646 samples), Australian National Wildlife Collection provider for OZCAM (537), MVZ Mammal Collection Arctos (109), Museum of Comparative Zoology, Harvard University (69) and six other minor collections comprising single specimens. Actually, as for the small terrestrial mammals, Vietnam remains one of the least representative regions in Southeast Asia. Here, we present new data containing 2408 occurrence records, including 2237 rodent records, along with 171 Scandentia ones (Fig. 3). Thus, the data significantly expand our knowledge about actual ranges of a number of species, including rare and endangered ones.

The Leichhardt Highway is a six hundred-kilometre stretch of sealed inland road that joins the Australian Queensland border town of Goondiwindi with the Capricorn Highway, just south of the Tropic of Capricorn. Named after the young Prussian naturalist Ludwig Leichhardt, part of this roadway follows the route his party took as they crossed northern Australia from Morton Bay (Brisbane) to Port Essington (near Darwin). Ignoring the usual colonial practice of honouring the powerful and aristocratic, Leichhardt named the noteworthy features along this route after his supporters and fellow expeditioners. Many of these names are still in use and a series of public monuments have also been erected in the intervening century and a half to commemorate this journey. Unlike Leichhardt, who survived his epic trip, some contemporary travellers who navigate the remote roadway named in his honour do not arrive at their final destinations. Memorials to these violently interrupted lives line the highway, many enigmatically located in places where there is no obvious explanation for the lethal violence that occurred there. This examination profiles the memorials along Leichhardt’s highway as Gothic practice, in order to illuminate some of the uncanny paradoxes around public memorials, as well as the loaded emotional terrain such commemorative practices may inhabit. All humans know that death awaits them (Morell). Yet, despite this, and the unprecedented torrent of images of death and dying saturating news, television, and social media (Duwe; Sumiala; Bisceglio), Gorer’s mid-century ideas about the denial of death and Becker’s 1973 Pulitzer prize-winning description of the purpose of human civilization as a defence against this knowledge remains current in the contemporary trope that individuals (at least in the West) deny their mortality. Contributing to this enigmatic situation is how many deny the realities of aging and bodily decay—the promise of the “life extension” industries (Hall)—and are shielded from death by hospitals, palliative care providers, and the multimillion dollar funeral industry (Kiernan). Drawing on Piatti-Farnell’s concept of popular culture artefacts as “haunted/haunting” texts, the below describes how memorials to the dead can powerfully reconnect those who experience them with death’s reality, by providing an “encrypted passageway through which the dead re-join the living in a responsive cycle of exchange and experience” (Piatti-Farnell). While certainly very different to the “sublime” iconic Gothic structure, the Gothic ruin that Summers argued could be seen as “a sacred relic, a memorial, a symbol of infinite sadness, of tenderest sensibility and regret” (407), these memorials do function in both this way as melancholy/regret-inducing relics as well as in Piatti-Farnell’s sense of bringing the dead into everyday consciousness. Such memorialising activity also evokes one of Spooner’s features of the Gothic, by acknowledging “the legacies of the past and its burdens on the present” (8).Ludwig Leichhardt and His HighwayWhen Leichhardt returned to Sydney in 1846 from his 18-month journey across northern Australia, he was greeted with surprise and then acclaim. Having mounted his expedition without any backing from influential figures in the colony, his party was presumed lost only weeks after its departure. Yet, once Leichhardt and almost all his expedition returned, he was hailed “Prince of Explorers” (Erdos). When awarding him a significant purse raised by public subscription, then Speaker of the Legislative Council voiced what he believed would be the explorer’s lasting memorial —the public memory of his achievement: “the undying glory of having your name enrolled amongst those of the great men whose genius and enterprise have impelled them to seek for fame in the prosecution of geographical science” (ctd. Leichhardt 539). Despite this acclaim, Leichhardt was a controversial figure in his day; his future prestige not enhanced by his Prussian/Germanic background or his disappearance two years later attempting to cross the continent. What troubled the colonial political class, however, was his transgressive act of naming features along his route after commoners rather than the colony’s aristocrats. Today, the Leichhardt Highway closely follows Leichhardt’s 1844-45 route for some 130 kilometres from Miles, north through Wandoan to Taroom. In the first weeks of his journey, Leichhardt named 16 features in this area: 6 of the more major of these after the men in his party—including the Aboriginal man ‘Charley’ and boy John Murphy—4 more after the tradesmen and other non-aristocratic sponsors of his venture, and the remainder either in memory of the journey’s quotidian events or natural features there found. What we now accept as traditional memorialising practice could in this case be termed as Gothic, in that it upset the rational, normal order of its day, and by honouring humble shopkeepers, blacksmiths and Indigenous individuals, revealed the “disturbance and ambivalence” (Botting 4) that underlay colonial class relations (Macintyre). On 1 December 1844, Leichhardt also memorialised his own past, referencing the Gothic in naming a watercourse The Creek of the Ruined Castles due to the “high sandstone rocks, fissured and broken like pillars and walls and the high gates of the ruined castles of Germany” (57). Leichhardt also disturbed and disfigured the nature he so admired, famously carving his initials deep into trees along his route—a number of which still exist, including the so-called Leichhardt Tree, a large coolibah in Taroom’s main street. Leichhardt also wrote his own memorial, keeping detailed records of his experiences—both good and more regretful—in the form of field books, notebooks and letters, with his major volume about this expedition published in London in 1847. Leichhardt’s journey has since been memorialised in various ways along the route. The Leichhardt Tree has been further defaced with numerous plaques nailed into its ancient bark, and the town’s federal government-funded Bicentennial project raised a formal memorial—a large sandstone slab laid with three bronze plaques—in the newly-named Ludwig Leichhardt Park. Leichhardt’s name also adorns many sites both along, and outside, the routes of his expeditions. While these fittingly include natural features such as the Leichhardt River in north-west Queensland (named in 1856 by Augustus Gregory who crossed it by searching for traces of the explorer’s ill-fated 1848 expedition), there are also many businesses across Queensland and the Northern Territory less appropriately carrying his name. More somber monuments to Leichhardt’s legacy also resulted from this journey. The first of these was the white settlement that followed his declaration that the countryside he moved through was well endowed with fertile soils. With squatters and settlers moving in and land taken up before Leichhardt had even arrived back in Sydney, the local Yeeman people were displaced, mistreated and completely eradicated within a decade (Elder). Mid-twentieth century, Patrick White’s literary reincarnation, Voss of the eponymous novel, and paintings by Sidney Nolan and Albert Tucker have enshrined in popular memory not only the difficult (and often described as Gothic) nature of the landscape through which Leichhardt travelled (Adams; Mollinson, and Bonham), but also the distinctive and contrary blend of intelligence, spiritual mysticism, recklessness, and stoicism Leichhardt brought to his task. Roadside Memorials Today, the Leichhardt Highway is also lined with a series of roadside shrines to those who have died much more recently. While, like centotaphs, tombstones, and cemeteries, these memorialise the dead, they differ in usually marking the exact location that death occurred. In 43 BC, Cicero articulated the idea of the dead living in memory, “The life of the dead consists in the recollection cherished of them by the living” (93), yet Nelson is one of very few contemporary writers to link roadside memorials to elements of Gothic sensibility. Such constructions can, however, be described as Gothic, in that they make the roadway unfamiliar by inscribing onto it the memory of corporeal trauma and, in the process, re-creating their locations as vivid sites of pain and suffering. These are also enigmatic sites. Traffic levels are generally low along the flat or gently undulating terrain and many of these memorials are located in locations where there is no obvious explanation for the violence that occurred there. They are loci of contradictions, in that they are both more private than other memorials, in being designed, and often made and erected, by family and friends of the deceased, and yet more public, visible to all who pass by (Campbell). Cemeteries are set apart from their surroundings; the roadside memorial is, in contrast, usually in open view along a thoroughfare. In further contrast to cemeteries, which contain many relatively standardised gravesites, individual roadside memorials encapsulate and express not only the vivid grief of family and friends but also—when they include vehicle wreckage or personal artefacts from the fatal incident—provide concrete evidence of the trauma that occurred. While the majority of individuals interned in cemeteries are long dead, roadside memorials mark relatively contemporary deaths, some so recent that there may still be tyre marks, debris and bloodstains marking the scene. In 2008, when I was regularly travelling this roadway, I documented, and researched, the six then extant memorial sites that marked the locations of ten fatalities from 1999 to 2006. (These were all still in place in mid-2014.) The fatal incidents are very diverse. While half involved trucks and/or road trains, at least three were single vehicle incidents, and the deceased ranged from 13 to 84 years of age. Excell argues that scholarship on roadside memorials should focus on “addressing the diversity of the material culture” (‘Contemporary Deathscapes’) and, in these terms, the Leichhardt Highway memorials vary from simple crosses to complex installations. All include crosses (mostly, but not exclusively, white), and almost all are inscribed with the name and birth/death dates of the deceased. Most include flowers or other plants (sometimes fresh but more often plastic), but sometimes also a range of relics from the crash and/or personal artefacts. These are, thus, unsettling sights, not least in the striking contrast they provide with the highway and surrounding road reserve. The specific location is a key component of their ability to re-sensitise viewers to the dangers of the route they are travelling. The first memorial travelling northwards, for instance, is situated at the very point at which the highway begins, some 18 kilometres from Goondiwindi. Two small white crosses decorated with plastic flowers are set poignantly close together. The inscriptions can also function as a means of mobilising connection with these dead strangers—a way of building Secomb’s “haunted community”, whereby community in the post-colonial age can only be built once past “murderous death” (131) is acknowledged. This memorial is inscribed with “Cec Hann 06 / A Good Bloke / A Good hoarseman [sic]” and “Pat Hann / A Good Woman” to tragically commemorate the deaths of an 84-year-old man and his 79-year-old wife from South Australia who died in the early afternoon of 5 June 2006 when their Ford Falcon, towing a caravan, pulled onto the highway and was hit by a prime mover pulling two trailers (Queensland Police, ‘Double Fatality’; Jones, and McColl). Further north along the highway are two memorials marking the most inexplicable of road deaths: the single vehicle fatality (Connolly, Cullen, and McTigue). Darren Ammenhauser, aged 29, is remembered with a single white cross with flowers and plaque attached to a post, inscribed hopefully, “Darren Ammenhauser 1971-2000 At Rest.” Further again, at Billa Billa Creek, a beautifully crafted metal cross attached to a fence is inscribed with the text, “Kenneth J. Forrester / RIP Jack / 21.10.25 – 27.4.05” marking the death of the 79-year-old driver whose vehicle veered off the highway to collide with a culvert on the creek. It was reported that the vehicle rolled over several times before coming to rest on its wheels and that Forrester was dead when the police arrived (Queensland Police, ‘Fatal Traffic Incident’). More complex memorials recollect both single and multiple deaths. One, set on both sides of the road, maps the physical trajectory of the fatal smash. This memorial comprises white crosses on both sides of road, attached to a tree on one side, and a number of ancillary sites including damaged tyres with crosses placed inside them on both sides of the road. Simple inscriptions relay the inability of such words to express real grief: “Gary (Gazza) Stevens / Sadly missed” and “Gary (Gazza) Stevens / Sadly missed / Forever in our hearts.” The oldest and most complex memorial on the route, commemorating the death of four individuals on 18 June 1999, is also situated on both sides of the road, marking the collision of two vehicles travelling in opposite directions. One memorial to a 62-year-old man comprises a cross with flowers, personal and automotive relics, and a plaque set inside a wooden fence and simply inscribed “John Henry Keenan / 23-11-1936–18-06-1999”. The second memorial contains three white crosses set side-by-side, together with flowers and relics, and reveals that members of three generations of the same family died at this location: “Raymond Campbell ‘Butch’ / 26-3-67–18-6-99” (32 years of age), “Lorraine Margaret Campbell ‘Lloydie’ / 29-11-46–18-6-99” (53 years), and “Raymond Jon Campbell RJ / 28-1-86–18-6-99” (13 years). The final memorial on this stretch of highway is dedicated to Jason John Zupp of Toowoomba who died two weeks before Christmas 2005. This consists of a white cross, decorated with flowers and inscribed: “Jason John Zupp / Loved & missed by all”—a phrase echoed in his newspaper obituary. The police media statement noted that, “at 11.24pm a prime mover carrying four empty trailers [stacked two high] has rolled on the Leichhardt Highway 17km north of Taroom” (Queensland Police, ‘Fatal Truck Accident’). The roadside memorial was placed alongside a ditch on a straight stretch of road where the body was found. The coroner’s report adds the following chilling information: “Mr Zupp was thrown out of the cabin and his body was found near the cabin. There is no evidence whatsoever that he had applied the brakes or in any way tried to prevent the crash … Jason was not wearing his seatbelt” (Cornack 5, 6). Cornack also remarked the truck was over length, the brakes had not been properly adjusted, and the trip that Zupp had undertaken could not been lawfully completed according to fatigue management regulations then in place (8). Although poignant and highly visible due to these memorials, these deaths form a small part of Australia’s road toll, and underscore our ambivalent relationship with the automobile, where road death is accepted as a necessary side-effect of the freedom of movement the technology offers (Ladd). These memorials thus animate highways as Gothic landscapes due to the “multifaceted” (Haider 56) nature of the fear, terror and horror their acknowledgement can bring. Since 1981, there have been, for instance, between some 1,600 and 3,300 road deaths each year in Australia and, while there is evidence of a long term downward trend, the number of deaths per annum has not changed markedly since 1991 (DITRDLG 1, 2), and has risen in some years since then. The U.S.A. marked its millionth road death in 1951 (Ladd) along the way to over 3,000,000 during the 20th century (Advocates). These deaths are far reaching, with U.K. research suggesting that each death there leaves an average of 6 people significantly affected, and that there are some 10 to 20 per cent of mourners who experience more complicated grief and longer term negative affects during this difficult time (‘Pathways Through Grief’). As the placing of roadside memorials has become a common occurrence the world over (Klaassens, Groote, and Vanclay; Grider; Cohen), these are now considered, in MacConville’s opinion, not only “an appropriate, but also an expected response to tragedy”. Hockey and Draper have explored the therapeutic value of the maintenance of “‘continuing bonds’ between the living and the dead” (3). This is, however, only one explanation for the reasons that individuals erect roadside memorials with research suggesting roadside memorials perform two main purposes in their linking of the past with the present—as not only sites of grieving and remembrance, but also of warning (Hartig, and Dunn; Everett; Excell, Roadside Memorials; MacConville). Clark adds that by “localis[ing] and personalis[ing] the road dead,” roadside memorials raise the profile of road trauma by connecting the emotionless statistics of road death directly to individual tragedy. They, thus, transform the highway into not only into a site of past horror, but one in which pain and terror could still happen, and happen at any moment. Despite their increasing commonality and their recognition as cultural artefacts, these memorials thus occupy “an uncomfortable place” both in terms of public policy and for some individuals (Lowe). While in some states of the U.S.A. and in Ireland the erection of such memorials is facilitated by local authorities as components of road safety campaigns, in the U.K. there appears to be “a growing official opposition to the erection of memorials” (MacConville). Criticism has focused on the dangers (of distraction and obstruction) these structures pose to passing traffic and pedestrians, while others protest their erection on aesthetic grounds and even claim memorials can lower property values (Everett). While many ascertain a sense of hope and purpose in the physical act of creating such shrines (see, for instance, Grider; Davies), they form an uncanny presence along the highway and can provide dangerous psychological territory for the viewer (Brien). Alongside the townships, tourist sites, motels, and petrol stations vying to attract customers, they stain the roadway with the unmistakable sign that a violent death has happened—bringing death, and the dead, to the fore as a component of these journeys, and destabilising prominent cultural narratives of technological progress and safety (Richter, Barach, Ben-Michael, and Berman).Conclusion This investigation has followed Goddu who proposes that a Gothic text “registers its culture’s contradictions” (3) and, in profiling these memorials as “intimately connected to the culture that produces them” (Goddu 3) has proposed memorials as Gothic artefacts that can both disturb and reveal. Roadside memorials are, indeed, so loaded with emotional content that their close contemplation can be traumatising (Brien), yet they are inescapable while navigating the roadway. Part of their power resides in their ability to re-animate those persons killed in these violent in the minds of those viewing these memorials. In this way, these individuals are reincarnated as ghostly presences along the highway, forming channels via which the traveller can not only make human contact with the dead, but also come to recognise and ponder their own sense of mortality. While roadside memorials are thus like civic war memorials in bringing untimely death to the forefront of public view, roadside memorials provide a much more raw expression of the chaotic, anarchic and traumatic moment that separates the world of the living from that of the dead. While traditional memorials—such as those dedicated by, and to, Leichhardt—moreover, pay homage to the vitality of the lives of those they commemorate, roadside memorials not only acknowledge the alarming circumstances of unexpected death but also stand testament to the power of the paradox of the incontrovertibility of sudden death versus our lack of ability to postpone it. In this way, further research into these and other examples of Gothic memorialising practice has much to offer various areas of cultural study in Australia.ReferencesAdams, Brian. Sidney Nolan: Such Is Life. Hawthorn, Vic.: Hutchinson, 1987. Advocates for Highway and Auto Safety. “Motor Vehicle Traffic Fatalities & Fatality Rate: 1899-2003.” 2004. Becker, Ernest. The Denial of Death. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1973. Bisceglio, Paul. “How Social Media Is Changing the Way We Approach Death.” The Atlantic 20 Aug. 2013. Botting, Fred. Gothic: The New Critical Idiom. 2nd edition. Abingdon, UK: Routledge, 2014. 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