The Met offfice
The reason we were on the Island at all was to enable regular meteorological observations to be made. These were then transmitted back to Wellington four times a day.
The Met office was thus a central part of the daily work and for the three Met officers, it was full time work attending to the regular balloon flights and climate observations, particularly as these observations were carried out for the full 24 hours.
Initially I attended the morning radiosonde flight to be on hand if anything went wrong with the gear. After a while I started helping out with such chores as making hydrogen, filling the balloons with hydrogen and operating the theodolyte during the flight.
Hydrogen had to be manufactured on the Island and when we first arrived we made it by what was called the high pressure system. It worked something like this.
A high pressure cylinder, about three meters long, was mounted centrally on a beam so it could be rocked up and down just like a see saw. A screw-in bung which held a pressure gauge reading up to 2500 pounds per square inch could close its open end.
To make the hydrogen, measured amounts of aluminium shavings, caustic soda and water were introduced and the bung screwed in smartly. The cylinder was then rocked up and down to mix the contents.
The ingredients reacted, hydrogen was generated, and in a very short time the pressure rose.
Ideally the pressure peaked at about 1700 pounds per square inch and the job was done.
If the ingredients were not correct and the pressure kept rising, you got the hell out of there!
This was acknowledged to be a "dangerous procedure" and was superseded by a low pressure method which we installed in the first couple of months.
This method entailed using the same ingredients, but in a low pressure cylinder. The hydrogen was taken off as it was generated and fed to the balloon directly.
This was much safer, but even so had to be controlled carefully, due to the volatile ingredients and product.
The hydrogen-filled balloons were used to carry Met paraphernalia aloft.
This paraphernalia ranged from pilot balloons carrying nothing in daylight and a candle at night. To radiosondes, which were instruments designed to transmit data such as pressure, temperature, humidity etc, back to the ground operators.
Both the pilot and radiosonde balloons were tracked by theodolyte to get wind direction and speed at various levels as they rose through the air and were blown along by the particular wind at the time. Pilot balloons were sent up four times a day and radiosondes once a day.
This was a good day for a release.
The radiosonde balloons were normally designated as 500 gram balloons (their actual weight) and when filled were nearly 2 meters in diameter, a size not too difficult to handle even in windy conditions.
The radiosonde transmitter was attached to the balloon with about 10 meters of string.
In calm conditions the balloon was released and rose straight up. As the string ran out the radiosonde was also released and the whole lot sailed up into the sky.
In windy conditions the balloon tended to charge along horizontally and only gain height slowly. In these cases the radiosonde was attached close to the balloon using a string unwinder which let the radiosonde out slowly as the balloon gained height. On Raoul it was often windy and some of the releases were spectacular.
Several times the radiosonde balloon gained height too slowly resulting in the radiosonde being caught up in trees where it remained happily transmitting away. As we worked in a narrow frequency band this caused interference with the next attempt.
In several cases the simplest solution to this was a couple of shots from a well- aimed rifle (usually Horse's .22) and the airways were clear once again.
When the IGY got under way we were told to use 750 gram balloons to get more height and range with our flights. These balloons were something else again.
They were made of neoprene and had to be heated in hot water to soften them before filling. This meant they were a wet slippery mess as they inflated.
They were also much larger when filled and very stretchy. In other words they were very hard to handle. In windy conditions it took three people a lot of skill and more luck to get one away.
One day there was a brisk on shore breeze and the first balloon burst before it was launched. On the second attempt Horse and I hauled the balloon out of the filling shed and managed to get the sloppy, writhing, bouncy thing into the air.
It charged off across the ground slowly making height, in fact just enough height to reach the antenna wires. It hit the wire of the transmitting antenna just as Mac started transmitting.
The result was spectacular. The balloon disappeared in a burst of red flame and the radiosonde described several loops round the antenna wire and remained there transmitting its entirely useless signal. Another candidate for Horse's .22. Chris actually filmed the entire episode.
I became more involved with the Met program when Merv had his accident. This happened only a few months after we arrived. Just when everything had settled down and was running smoothly.
One of the duties undertaken by the Met man when coming off duty after the midday radiosonde flight was to shut down a second generator that was run specially for the flight. There were four generators available all with different characteristics. On this particular flight the Lister was running. This had a fuel shut-off lever situated at the front of the engine.
Merv leant across the engine to reach the lever but slipped and his hand went into the cooling fan.
The result was a badly gashed hand which needed expert attention. The culmination was that Merv was on his way home within a few days and the Met service was one person short.
This was long before accident compensation was thought of but Merv was eventually compensated for his injury as it was found that a protective screen should have been in place over the fan to prevent just such an incident.
To fill the gap in the Met. ranks I was given a fast course on basic Met. observing and took over as the third Met. man.
This meant I did the third shift as far as general observing went.
This entailed such duties as the three-hourly recording of the usual Met data which included temperature, pressure, dew points, humidity, cloud, wind etc. All this information had to be put into code and transmitted to Wellington.
I enjoyed doing it, although at the beginning it took an hour to do each three- hourly observation. In time I became quite proficient and could rattle it all off in no time at all.
Manning the theodolyte was interesting and followed set procedures. After releasing the balloon the theodolyte man headed for the theodolyte position on top of the balloon shed and acquired the balloon. This was not always easy if it was being blown about by the wind.
Once acquired the operator had to pass the azimuth and elevation co-ordinates, by phone, to the Met observer plotting the radiosonde data. He did this at minute intervals at first then two minute intervals later.
These co-ordinates when combined with the known height of the balloon as given by the radiosonde barometer allowed accurate calculations to be made of the wind speed and direction at various levels.
Usually the balloon was soon swept out to a range which made calculations inexact and my part in the flight was over. Or the balloon entered cloud and that was that.
One particular day there was no wind and no cloud and the balloon went straight up. Normally a high altitude wind would take the balloon away, but this day there was nothing. The balloon kept going straight up.
After a while Chris advised he didn't need any more co-ordinates but I kept watching anyway.
The balloon eventually became a single point of light even though by now it would have expanded to the size of a small house. Finally it flared briefly and disappeared.
I told Chris the balloon had burst and he couldn't believe I knew, as no one had followed a balloon by theodolyte to that height before. It was over 100,000 feet when it finally burst. One of their longest flights and probably a theodolyte record.