Outsourcing Jobs in Antarctica Corporate America Gets Cold

For Midwinter's Day we had the opportunity to have a teleconference with the new boss of Raytheon Polar Services, Sam Feola. Mr. Feola was in Denver and the entire community of McMurdo was sitting in Antarctica. We listened to our boss up on a big screen in the Galley.

In a way this was a very futuristic setting. In another way, I felt like it was 1984.

To understand why the teleconference ended when I stepped up to the camera and, more importantly in front of my community, and said, "Shame on you Mr. Feola." You first have to understand what I was thinking.

Coming to Antarctica has been the most exciting, awe inspiring, life changing event, of well, my life.

And I owe it all to dishwashing.

I have seen a corner of the globe very few people will ever have a chance to experience. I have stood on the South Pole and cried icicle tears knowing I was THE person standing farther South than any other person in the world. Later that same week, I nearly died at the South Pole because of pulmonary edema. Thank you dirty dishes.

I have sailed on the Coast Guard ice breaker, the Polar Sea, as it broke through 14 feet of ice trying to clear a channel so the supply ship, the American Tern, could restock McMurdo. I have seen a pod of killer whales in their natural environment (not Sea World), emperor penguins (possibly the same ones who starred in the movie March of the Penguins), Adelie penguins and odd creatures living in the icy depths of the Ross Sea.

The craziest thing I have ever seen was a fish caught from 900 meters below the ice and when this fish was brought to the surface it flopped and flipped off of our plastic tarp and in mid flip, because of science, this fish turned into a block of ice.

I have seen the sun at three in the morning and the full moon at noon.

These things I have experienced, because scientists need to eat and dishes need to be washed.

Growing up I went to schools in Virginia, Texas and New Hampshire. In each of these states there always seemed to be the required "State History" class. Living in Antarctica there is not the prerequisite or required history lesson about Shackleton, Scott or even the earlier explorers of Antarctic History.

In high school the closest I ever came to learning about Antarctica was in my French class. My teacher, Madame DuBois, often said (excuse my French), "Phillipe, tu es dans la lune." She said this to mean "your mind is in the moon." Madame didn't like me very much, she said this meant "it is like you are a lunatic."

In a way, though, she was right. My mind was and is on the moon. I am old enough to remember a time when my father pointed to the moon and said, "Right now there are Americans walking on the moon." Growing up, of course I wanted to work for NASA and be an astronaut. I wanted to go to the moon and stick the American Flag where the sun doesn't shine. Now, I work for the United States Antarctic Program (USAP), I live in Antarctica and Je suis sur la lune. I am on the moon.

I am on the moon, because of dishwashing.

In 2002 when I tried to come to Antarctica, I worked as a graphic designer and freelance writer. In other words, I didn't have any skills necessary to work in Antarctica. I am not a plumber, electrician, butcher, baker or science maker.

Most of the jobs in Antarctica are hired through Raytheon, a military defense contractor, which also has a long business arm into the world of logistics. Logistics like finding ways to logistically staff USAP research stations at the bottom of the world.

After attending Raytheon's Job Fair in Denver, my resume floated to the top of over 500 applications. I quit writing and designing and I came to Antarctica to wash dishes. I was probably the least skilled employee in the kitchen. I washed dishes next to a lawyer, a nurse and a group of the most highly educated pot scrubbers this side of a Chinese prison.

The first dishwasher, Charles Brett, who lived in McMurdo came here aboard the Discovery with Robert Scott and Ernest Shackleton in1902. Brett may have signed a contract with Robert Scott, but when they arrived in McMurdo, this galley hand had to be "handcuffed and lashed to the windlass...until he agreed to resume duty." He escaped, he had nowhere to go, so he was captured again, chained up again and after he promised again to return to the dishes, he was set free and slaved away in the Galley. Certainly, there have been problems with the kitchen staff ever since.

There were days, if given the option, during my 14 months washing dishes at McMurdo, I would have considered being chained up outside as the better of the two options.

Now that my 14 months is history and I have moved on to a much better job, I wear my dishwashing career like a badge of honor. It gave me the moon and in return I gave everything to it.

Midwinter's Day in Antarctica is the biggest celebration this continent knows. All of the countries who have research stations down here cook their best meals (we had beef Wellington and lobster tails) and send out invitations inviting the other residents of Antarctica over for a drink.

Logistically it's impossible (even for Raytheon) to organize a trip over to the government of the Republic of Vesleskarvet-just the same though-it is nice to be invited.

Even President Bush sent an email saying, "I send greetings to those celebrating Midwinter's Day in Antarctica on June 21, 2006." There are probably less than 500 Americans on the continent right now. I am one of the people fortunate enough to be here during the Winter to receive a message from our President. He may even be my least favorite president, but this was a message that wasn't delivered as a press conference or a speech, but one delivered to the small group of Americans manning the USAP bases around Antarctica. This message was for me.

Another greeting we received was the teleconference from the new boss of Raytheon Polar Services, Sam Feola.

When it comes to learning more about the company I work for or more about Antarctica, I'm kind of a dork. I was looking forward to this teleconference, and not just because we were going to get out of work for an hour or two, but because I was looking forward to seeing what my company had in store for me and even the upcoming International Polar Year (IPY).

Over the past 125 years, there have only been three times in history designated as an IPY. The last one was from 1957-1958 and the next IPY is 2007-2008. During this time there will be a push to really highlight to the world what goes on in the Arctic and Antarctic scientific community. Especially in educating kindergarten through12th grade teachers.

From the amount of time I've spent in the kitchen in this community, I call this place home. It's a great feeling to think next year it will be like my home is on display.

Mostly the teleconference was uneventful. Mr. Feola said one thing or another about IPY, and I only know this because someone I was sitting next to said, "What's that 'IPY'?"

Like a geek in the front row of a science class, I said, "It's the upcoming International Polar Year, shhhh."

After Mr. Feola's prepared remarks, we then got to ask him questions. At first nobody dared to step up to the mike, then, once the ICE (ba dump bump) was broken, the conversation between the big man and ourselves lasted up until the question about outsourcing.

Mr. Feola said that Raytheon was considering outsourcing jobs to Canada or New Zealand only for jobs where there were not enough skilled Americans available to take them. For instance, he said they had found a company in New Zealand they were considering using to outsource for McMurdo's dishwashers.

I couldn't believe my ears, I leaned over to the girl who didn't know zip about IPY and said, "Did he say, 'Outsource dishwashers to New Zealand.'"

IPY said, "Yup."

I couldn't believe my blood. It began to boil. I thought of everything and more than I have written. I thought about other Americans who would not be able to experience what I have. The reason, Mr. Feola explained, was simple, because there aren't competent dishwashers in America.

I wondered what would have happened if in 1969 Raytheon was in charge of the logistics for sending the first man to the moon.

Walter Cronkite would have been sitting at his new's desk saying, "The Eagle has landed, I can see the astronaut, Neil Monbrasesfort, stepping out of the lunar lander, he is saying, just a minute, I'm waiting for a translation of, 'Une petite etape pour l'homme. Un saut geant pour externaliser.' I believe this means, 'One small step for man. One giant leap for outsourcing.' As you know, Neil Armstrong's government contractor didn't think Neil was competent to travel to the moon, so NASA replaced him with Neil Monbrasesfort (my arm is strong)."

Without thinking I approached the camera and had a question for our teleported, teleconferenced president. At this point I'd like to say I stood up on a table and gave my best Norma Rae speech about justice and loyalty to your country. Instead, my voice cracked as I addressed Mr. Feola.

I asked for a show of hands of the people in McMurdo who first came down here because they were a dishwasher. There were about 20 people who got their foot into this frozen door, by sticking their hands in warm dirty dishwater. About 10% of McMurdo.

There are times when you can plan to make your points clearly and then there are times when you are summonsed from your chair and you're addressing a crowd of people trying to make sense out of what you see as senseless, therefore possibly making little sense at all.

What I do know about Antarctica history is there was a time, less than 100 years ago, when Shackleton, Scott, Mawson, Amundsen and all others of what was once called the Heroic Age of Antarctica set up their camps, raced to the South Pole or studied science for the sake of gaining knowledge and they did so for the glory and the flag of their country.

On the American base we are kind of doing it in support of our Presidents too, unfortunately the decisions are really being based by supporting Washington, Lincoln, Hamilton, Jackson and that other guy on the 50$ bill whose name I never remember.

There are so many more people in America who would do anything to come to Antarctica. They'll leave their jobs as lawyers, nurses and graphic designers to make less than $6 an hour. They come to Antarctica as dishwashers, but they leave Antarctica as Antarcticans.

If Mr. Feola says he can't find competent dishwashers in America, then I say "Mr. Feola and Raytheon Tu es dans la lune."

Like myself these dishwashers are then going back to their home states, speaking to kindergarten through 12th graders at their schools and all of this off the radar of the IPY, getting more and more people excited about science and Antarctica.

These are the people who our new Polar President is considering to outsource, and that's why after I spoke my peace for the dishwashers of the future, I said, "Mr. Feola. Shame on you."

Posted by phil at June 19, 2006 11:00 AM