Nocturnal guardians of the ski slopes

Press, 26 August 1982, Page 21

Nocturnal guardians of the ski slopes

By

FELICITY PRICE

When the westerly wind blows a gale, which it often does during the ski season, the six people who live on Mount Hutt ski-field do not sleep. As they watch the windspeed recorder climb over its limit of 90 knots yet again, they know from experience that the wind's tremendous force will rock their specially reinforced building. All they can do is batten down the hatches and sit it out.

Sixteen hundred metres above sea-level, exposed to winds from the south and west in particular, the Mount Hutt day lodge — familiar to thousands of skiers for its canteen and ski-hire facilities is also the winter home, dav and night, of the mountain's night staff: the grader driver, groomer drivers, avalanche control and safety officer, caretaker, and cook. The highest home in New Zealand, and one of the most unusual, the lodge has remained secure and warm throughout the many fierce, buffeting storms that rage on the mountain during the winter.

When the weather is in a kinder mood, the views from the lounge window are spectacular - across the ski-field | to the mountains beyond and 1 the Canterbury Plains.

On a good night, the moon lights up the whole ski area. Sometimes the staff take advantage of their lofty position and go out and ski when there is a full moon. They say it's easier to see then than in daylight. The ski-field lifts stop at 4 p.m. every day. Within ah hour, the' mountain is deserted. the carpark is empty, and the day staff have gone home to Methven.

For the night staff, though, the day's work is just beginning.

While ‘'Cooky." Sue. is preparing the night's threecourse dinner. Warren, the caretaker, is cleaning up the mess left by the departed skiers, the grader diver is tinkering with his machinery, and the groomer drivers are preparing the field for the next day's influx of skiers. In a corner of the dining room-cum-lounge, the mountain's snow safety officer, Eric Saxby, is studying the day's readings on the anemometer to see what the wind has been up to. When the news is over on the television, he listens intently to the weather forecasts to see if he needs to be on the alert for approaching storms or bad weather.

Eric goes to bed early after dinner, because he has to be up before 6 a.m. to check the weather, the forecast, the snow conditions, and to make the decision whether to suggest to the skifield manager down in Methven if the field should open or not.

A lot of the time, of course, there is no problem. But if he is unhappy about the present conditions, or about anything that has been forecast for the day, his mountain experience, and his particular knowledge of Mount Hutt's peculiar weather patterns, is crucial. If there is any danger of avalanches, he has to take readings of the depths of each layer of snow by going out on the field and digging a snow pit. He also records the temperature of each layer and studies the structure of the snow crystals under a magnifying lens. All these factors will tell him how stable — or unstable — the snow is. If it looks unstable, he

may let off a shell from the avalauncher. which is designed to settle the snow on those slopes prone to avalanches. or occasionally to bring the snow down the slope to make it safe before the skiers arrive.

If the weather forecast is bleak, he has to apply his special knowledge of the mountain to the forecast and decide how it will be affected. Mount Hutt, with its peculiar isolation on the verge of the Canterbury Plains, often has different weather than , the other skifields. which tend to be hidden away in the ranges. As part of his daily, early morning assessment, Eric telephones the Meteorological Office to find out the detailed forecast. In return, he provides a daily record for the Met. office of the wind, rain, snowfall, and temperature recordings on the mountain.

When he has taken everything into account, he telephones the mountain manager, Phil Witton, or his assistant, John Waterer. On this day, John Waterer is in charge. Between them, they decide if the mountain should open. Eric is the “eyes and ears” of the mountain manager, because he is on the mountain at the time.

“You have to balance both safety and the customers.” John Waterer says. “You have to make the right decision, because it can be awfully embarrassing if you decide to close the mountain and then by midday it turns but to be a beautiful day.” Too much haste in the other direction could be equally embarrassing, and damaging to the mountain's reputation. If skiers were

caught on the mountain when a storm suddenly arrived, the mountain management have a massive problem on their hands — they would have to get all the skiers down safely in their cars and buses in the middle of a blizzard, when whiteout conditions were prevailing.

Similar headaches occur for the management when the wind gets up, especially when it comes from the west.

While the westerly wind is merely unpleasant on the ski-field, it can literally be a killer down the road.

When an Australian tourist stopped his rental car on one of the two saddles on the way down the mountain during a bad westerly wind a few years ago, he opened the door'and the car blew off the road and down the mountainside. One person was killed and another was badly injured.

But that wouldn't happen now. Since then, barriers have been erected on the sides of both ridges, notices have been put up warning drivers not to stop, and a wind-speed recorder has been installed on one of the saddles.

At the press of a button, the recorder gives a digital read-out of the wind speed on the saddle in the moutain manager's office of the skifield.

"If the wind gets upwards of 50 knots on the saddles, we go down there ourselves and check it manually," Eric Saxby says.

The idea is to make sure that the capricious westerly wind does not get too strong for cars to travel down the road. If it looks like it will get too strong, management will shut down the field

immediately and tell skiers to leave quickly.

'“You've seen the mounain at a time when operations are running smoothly, and the weather is settled. The snow r is ideal, and everyone is spread all over the mountain. rather than in just a few main runs, which makes it easy to administer." says John Waterer.

“The time when it gets difficult is when there's a change in the weather - if a nor'west or westerly blows up. or a sudden southerly change brings an unexpected snowstorm.” he says. If this sort of thing happens during the day, or looks likely to happen, the mountain management has to decide if they should close the field early, if it will be safe for getting skiers down the road, or if it will be safe to hold off until later in the dav.

Skiers are just as likely to be angry with the management for turfing them off the ski-field, even if it is blowing a gale, as they are likely to be upset over a scary trip down the road in a whiteout.

“It's a tough job. sometimes. but I wouldn't trade it for the world." John Waterer says. . “There’s certainly never a dull moment." He and Phil Witton are responsible not only for the thousands of skiers who visit the mountain, but also for the big staff — between 150 and 175 all told. They include office workers, ski school and race department, lift operators, cafeteria staff, ski-hire workers, storage supervisors, souvenir shopkeepers, creche supervisors, maintenance crew, road patrol and car park supervisors, ski patrollers. tollgate collectors, groomer drivers and the grader driver.