"When we think about Antarctica we tend to think about vast tracts of frozen wastes, of desperate men whipping dogs toward lonely deaths or international glory, of Kurt Russell taking a flamethrower to shape-shifting aliens.What we don't think about are bacchanalian orgies and non-stop drinking. Which proves how badly we've been misled, because that's precisely what's going on. Not only is there plenty to drink, there's plenty of reason to drink." - Giles Humbert III

The drinking that takes place is best (and most entertainingly) expressed by Nicholas Johnson, author of the book Big Dead Place:

"A few weeks ago we had a party where someone took a big block of ice and carved little “ski trails” in it down which kamikazes were poured into the eager mouths of those wearing ski goggles and holding ski poles. This was called Liquor Mountain. Women gave prizes to any man who showed up in a dress, so there was much cross-dressing. Myself, I wore a nasty leopard-print number with the nipples cut out, drank one too many kamikazes and barfed up corn dogs in the snow."

"Your basic Antarctic party either includes meat and beer and standing around, or meat and beer and dancing to the Greatest Hits of the ‘80s while wearing disco clothes. For some reason, people can’t get enough of disco clothes here. They are a source of infinite delight."

"Sometimes the Air National Guard guys have a keg-tossing contest outside the bar at McMurdo Station. One time some folks held an exorcism for one of the machines that kept breaking down, where they drank whiskey and played songs for the machine. And this one guy came up with the idea to have a bunch of Depends adult diapers sent down so that everyone could stand around drinking beer and pissing themselves. I didn’t make it to that party, but a friend of mine did. He hooked up with this amazing woman after the party. He picked up a chick while wearing a diaper!"

"I have yet to hear of a winter when alcohol ran out altogether. But since it's too cold for planes to deliver spirits from February to October, each year is a harrowing fight for survival in regards to booze-hoarding. One winter they ran out of beer, so people were drinking shots of whiskey with red-wine chasers. Another winter all the wine was kept in a shack that somehow had the power cut, so all the wine froze and management let people have it for free. This winter so far we have run out of Maker’s Mark, Bushmills, Crown Royal, Wild Turkey, tequila, rum, and all bottled beer. The horror!"

"That’s Boozy the Clown, one of the most notorious personalities on this frozen rock. The worker who invented Boozy is very mild-mannered and pleasant, but when he dons the face paint and wig and rainbow clown shirt, he is displaced by a cruel and malicious drunken clown who knows no honor. When people see Boozy they become frightened. He drinks their booze, steals their women, and ruthlessly humiliates the shy and timid. In typical Antarctic fashion, where one can never escape in work or play a familiarity with one’s fellows, people don’t confuse the actions of Boozy with those of the mild-mannered worker, and may comment the next day that Boozy, not the worker, was a vicious hellion the previous night."

"We tend to prefer anything that becomes scarce. Presently, Crown Royal is revered as some sacred ambrosia tapped from the center of the earth, and he who brings a bottle into public at this late point in the winter will meet with the dual receptions of hearty backslaps in that there is probably enough for everyone to get a shot, yet secret ruminations of pushing the gentleman down the stairs once the bottle has been procured, with the justification that the fiend has been hoarding such a commodity against the greater good of the station. At the beginning of the winter, the station manager made known to us that a limited supply of Sierra Nevada and Corona bottled beers was available, and that we could purchase one case of each. Despite that Corona is one of the most unremarkable beers on this planet, we descended on them like a pack of rabid rats on a lost toddler."

"One alcohol that I rarely see in the States but which is certainly a staple here is Bailey’s Irish Cream. If there’s one drink that typifies the Antarctic experience, it’s Bailey’s and coffee. People drink it at the stations, people drink it at the field camps, people drink it in dorm rooms, people drink it in laboratories. When you see those live-from-Antarctica type feeds at museums, the scientists are usually at some field camp, and they usually have some time off because otherwise they wouldn’t be wasting it on a bunch of North-lubbers stumbling around a museum. I’ll give you ten to one that any scientist you’re talking to under such circumstances is by 9 a.m. ripped on Bailey’s and has coffee tremors. I make of Bailey’s popularity here that it is both a cold-weather drink and that, because it is not really seen as a “hard liquor”, on their days off folks can drink it in the morning more respectably than if they attacked a bottle of Cuervo Gold."

"Barometrically, we are at an altitude of approximately 10,000 feet and temperately Antarctica is classified as a desert. It’s very high and very dry, so while one’s terrible thirst drives one to the conclusion that half of each beer is being lost to evaporation before it can be consumed, this is not really the case, thus two beers are conscripted where one might suffice. In addition, after one drinks two times as much as necessary to feel pleasant and warm in one’s otherwise empty bed, the dry air suddenly attacks in the night and robs one of all moisture whatsoever."

http://www.bigdeadplace.com

http://www.moderndrunkardmagazine.com/issues/08-04/08-04-southpole.htm

>> What else do Antarcticans do for fun? Polar Traditions

>> See how this fits into the Psychology of Living in Antarctica

>> Find out what life is like at McMurdo Station (U.S.), Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station (U.S.), Esperanza Base (Argentina), or Eduardo Frei Montalva Station (Chile)

>> What is life like for Women in Antarctica?

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