Frank Sebelin celebrated New Year’s Day 1956 at the South Pole with a sign that reads, “Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania 10,031 miles, 52,963,680 feet. Happy New Year from the South Pole, 1955-1956.”

During the International Geophysical Year nearly fifty years ago, Frank Sebelin helped begin weather forecasting on Antarctica as part of the US Navy’s “Operation Deepfreeze.” Frank, with a handful of snow, outside his Wall & Window Décor shop on Race St. in Jim Thorpe.

After the tanker (rear) was struck by an ice shelf causing one side to collapse, Frank Sebelin and the crew were ordered to abandon ship.

Ken Behannon (left) and Frank Sebelin launched weather balloons from deck of the USS Wyandot in Antarctica.

The 14,000-mile trip aboard the USS Wyandot started at Norfolk Virginia on November 14, 1955, passed through the Panama Canal, made a resupply stop at Christchurch New Zealand, arriving at the McMurto Sound base in Antarctica on December 27.

Helped develop Antarctic weather station and tested Martian Rover prototypes.

AntarcticWeatherman

Danger in Antarctica

“Don’t miss the sunset in Antarctica,” said Frank Sebelin of Jim Thorpe. “It is incredible and lasts for days. But it only comes once a year.”

After graduating East Mauch Chunk High School in 1953, Frank served two tours on the ice-covered continent as part of the US Navy’s “Operation Deepfreeze.”

Had he not been a gymnast in high school, Frank may have perished in an icy and watery grave. It all started with an urge for a candy bar.

“Ships had come into port and we wanted to buy some candy bars,” began Frank. With a buddy, he ran to catch the “Weasel,” a diesel driven sled train that would take them to the port. They were too late and missed the train.

“So we headed on a short cut across the ice to try to catch it,” explained Frank. There was a trail that was marked with flags. The flags were moved every day because of the crevasses that were constantly opening and closing.”

Frank’s buddy ran ahead, bounding across the blanket of snow. Unknowingly, he had jumped over a snow-covered crevasse—a place where the ice separated, exposing the seawater below.

As Frank stepped onto the snow above the crevasse, he fell through. He yelled, and as he fell, he instinctively extended his arms and caught the ledge under his armpits.

Raising himself to his hands, he swung up and over—recalling his gymnastic days vaulting from the parallel bars. “Were it any wider, I would have not been able to push up,” Frank mused. “If I hit the water, I would have been dead.”

Prelude to Mars

Antarctica may be the place on earth that most closely resembles Mars. Its rugged, little explored terrain is cold, remote and devoid of vegetation. In the International Geophysical year of 1957, it was the perfect place to develop science and technology.

After graduating East Mauch Chunk High School in 1953, Frank Sebelin joined the Navy with hopes of becoming a weatherman. He was inspired by his high school science teacher, Harold Geiger. Geiger later became Supervising Principal at Tamaqua High School.

After boot camp, Frank completed the Navy Air Force Airman’s School and Weather School before his assignment to the Norfolk Virginia Naval Air Station.  In 1954, the Navy asked for volunteers for “Operation Deepfreeze” to handle transport of cargo and to support the bases in Antarctica. “I joined the Navy to see the world, so I volunteered,” said Frank. He was the only one selected from the eight that volunteered from the Weather Center.

The 14,000-mile trip aboard USS Wyandot started at Norfolk on November 14, 1955, passed through the Panama Canal, made a resupply stop at Christchurch New Zealand, arriving at the McMurto Sound base on December 27.

The USS Wyandot, a cargo ship was part of a fleet of perhaps seven ships, several of which were tankers carrying diesel or aviation fuel. The two diesel tankers became permanent storage facilities at the base.

Frank set up temporary weather observation stations. His team released radiosant equipped, instrumented weather balloons every six hours. The balloons radioed back temperature and pressure readings, and by observing their travel, provided wind speed and direction, before bursting at around 25,000 feet.

Frank returned stateside and when he returned the following year, the Navy wanted him to test an automatic weather station. “I studied how we could drop them out of planes by parachute,” said Frank. “They were just like the one on Mars right now. The legs come out, it stands upright, and the instruments relay information.”

“That’s what they were supposed to do,” he continued. “We of the twenty we dropped into the field, only three were successful. Some were buried in the snow and we never saw them again.”

Baby It’s Cold Outside

During Frank’s tour in Antarctica, the warmest temperature was 15 degrees. “The air was very dry and not uncomfortable,” noted Frank. “The coldest I saw was 76 degrees below zero. On the other side of the pole, the Russians set a record at –126 °F.

Summer, the time when the sun is shining, begins in November and runs until March. The rest of the year it is total darkness 24/7.

Snowstorms come any time of the year, and last up to three days. Visibility was so poor that “we had to follow the ropes to the chow hall.”

Abandon Ship!

Frank had completed his watch on an aviation fuel tanker that was following an icebreaker cutting a channel to the base, when the Whoop-whoop-whoop of the general alarm went off. He had just fallen asleep when the alarm startled him and he bumped his head rising.

Jumping from his bunk, he ran topside to see that a ten-mile long by five-mile wide ice shelf had broken off and had collapsed one side of the ship. “I could heard the ice crunching,” remembers Frank.

The ship’s speaker blared, “Abandon Ship!” With the rest of the crew, Frank climbed over the side and down a ladder to the ice.

“We stood on the ice, watched the ice shelf move, and waited for the icebreakers,” Frank said.

The icebreakers freed the ship and the captain took it out to sea. The hull was leaking into the ocean and highly flammable fumes engulfed the ship. The decision was made to discharge 150,000 gallons of aviation gasoline into the ocean. “Needless to say, we were not allowed to smoke,” Frank noted.

Old Antarctic Explorer

Frank Sebelin’s Antarctic explorer days are nearly half a century away. For the past few years, he has been wondering what became of his McMurto team.

He regularly reads the American Legion Magazine, constantly seeing notices of reunions and wondering how to get in touch with his former buddies.

Turning to the Internet, Frank was pleasantly surprised to see several hits on “Operation Deepfreeze.” Last year, he contacted and joined the Old Antarctic Explorers Association. He hopes to attend a reunion in the coming year.

Old Antarctic Explorers

Frank used the Internet to discover and join the Old Antarctic Explorers Association. He hopes to attend a reunion in the coming year and meet some of his buddies from “Operation Deepfreeze.”