Editor's note: Dr. Alan Hickey graduated from the National College of Chiropractic in 1992 and practiced in Massachusetts and Rhode Island until he was presented with the opportunity to participate in the United States Antarctic program. He is a Master Mariner licensed by the United States Coast Guard, and teaches university level courses in marine sciences.
This article is being written as we approach the northern end of Drake's Passage, one and a half days from our Chilean home port. Two more round trip passages between Chile and Antarctica will complete my tour of duty this Antarctic winter between May and July.
Antarctica is the world's fifth largest continent. It is also the highest, coldest, driest and windiest place on earth. It has been referred to by many as another planet. The relatively few people who have had the fortune to visit or work there find it indescribable. The raw beauty, ruggedness, and ferocity of weather, balanced by periods of complete silence are nature's gift to the bottom of the globe. The grandeur of Antarctica remains a domain of superlatives and contradictions. Its inaccessibility and isolation have preserved this wilderness as the most unspoiled place on Earth.
Recently, on a rare clear day during the austral winter (summer in the Northern Hemisphere), I climbed the glacier behind Palmer Station, a U.S. research base on the northern peninsula. The sun never rose above the glacier, as daylight in the winter is reduced to just a few hours per day, but the sunrise colors of orange and pink refracted by the few clouds present were painted across the surrounding snow-covered mountains and icy terrain as far as the eye could see. This, accompanied by the vast white stillness and lifelessness, was company enough away from my ship.
My working platform (office, home and social life) is the Polar Duke, a research vessel and Norwegian icebreaker on charter by an American contractor to serve the U.S. Antarctic program as administered by the National Science Foundation. The only other vessel operated for this program is the U.S. R/V Nathaniel B. Palmer. The Polar Duke is crewed by nine Norwegians, 3-4 Chileans, three American support staff, and up to 24 scientists. The vessel operates from a base in Punta Arenas, Chile, the southernmost city in the world (pop. 130,000), beyond which lies the Straits of Magellan and Tierra del Fuego.
The Polar Duke is an oceanographic research platform and supply ship for Palmer Station, which supports 25-42 people year round. The National Science Foundation awards over 16,000 grants to 2,000 universities, colleges and other U.S. research institutions who send their scientists and assistants to this southern continent to study and explore all aspects of its physical environment. Research objectives are both theoretical and practical in nature, ranging from the ozone hole and its implications on DNA replication, to the properties of icefish and why they don't freeze.
I am the shipboard coordinator of all scientific and logistical activity. Working with scientists from several nations and across the United States in a most unique environment has certainly been a privilege. Having been a mariner for many years before becoming a chiropractor made it easy to take advantage of this opportunity when it arose. Lately, my skills as a chiropractor have been in demand because of the physical extremes encountered by our crew. Besides chiropractic training I have also availed myself of numerous medical courses for acute care in remote environments since the nearest health care is often days away.
Drake's Passage, between the southern tip of South America and the Antarctic Peninsula, requires sailing by Cape Horn, one of the most tumultuous bodies of water known to mariners. Weather in these southern latitudes can build to hurricane strength in minutes without warning, unlike the U.S. East Coast where a hurricane can be followed two weeks before impact. In winter the temperature plummets below zero, snow storms are frequent and the vessel's rigging become covered with ice. During all this, we must often be outside on a rolling deck, deploying and retrieving research equipment, commercial fishing gear and handling heavy cargo. Trying to sleep in a bunk that in heavy weather can be likened to someone's idea of an amusement park ride: one second you're airborne; the next you are flattened out and twisted on your mattress, while simultaneously feeling like you are on the end of a vibrating diving board. Such conditions make the services of a chiropractor handy indeed.
Recently the chief mate, a Norwegian, approached me with complaints of longstanding suboccipital headaches and upper thoracic spinal pain. This is not surprising considering the 12 hours per day of standing watch he must perform on the bridge. He had considered visiting a chiropractor in Norway, a first for him, but never found the opportunity. After a thorough history and examination, I treated him very successfully in two visits using a laboratory workbench and the floor in my stateroom. This also gave me the opportunity to teach him how to perform a rudimentary anterior thoracic adjustments to relieve some knife-like rib pain I had from having spent two storm-swept days in the Drake.
Another case involved the whiplash symptoms of another chief mate who had been involved in a motor vehicle accident in Florida several days earlier. A hospital exam and x-rays following the accident were unremarkable, but once aboard ship and a few days out to sea he became symptomatic. Following typical exam procedures, I began adjusting this patient and guided him with a cervical rehabilitation program. His outcome was excellent after one week.
I've enjoyed combining these two professions and have welcomed the opportunity to share my chiropractic skills with many new international friends.
Alan Hickey, DC
P.O. Box 731
Mattapoisett, MA 02739
