Welcome to the penultimate journal entry. We were on our way home and not too far away from returning to Earth. I hope you've enjoyed it so far - only one more to go after this...
Southern Ocean (55 deg S, 92 deg E)
When we left Hobart nearly five weeks ago, we had no idea what was in store. We were looking forward to a short and uneventful three-week round trip. A chance to understand at first hand the waste problems of the Antarctic, meet the people involved and visit the project sites at Casey and Wilkes. We certainly accomplished this. We understand the scope and size of the challenge and as a consequence, are more committed than ever in ensuring the success of the program.
Late yesterday afternoon, Yann was on the bridge deck photographing what may well be the last iceberg we will see. I asked him why he was taking a picture of such a pathetic little lump of ice when we had hundreds of pictures of some of the most majestic looking structures imaginable, he responded by reminding me how excited we were to see the first, and he felt that we should treat the last with the same respect. Can’t argue with that.
Having freed Polar Bird, we sailed in convoy for a few hours, and it was a wonderful sight to see the two vessels in their brilliant orange livery gliding through the water on such a bright, cold sunny day. We might easily have been at a regatta on the Solent were it not for the ever present wandering albatross. It became even more of a social event later that morning when we rendezvoused with the Chinese Icebreaker, Xue Long. A great opportunity for photos, radio chit-chat and a lot of waving.
Later, as Polar Bird at last took her leave from us, it was to a stirring rendition of Die Walküre’s evocative "Ride of the Valkyries" blasting from her on-board speakers across the every increasing gap between the two vessels. It wasn’t just the sea-spray which was making our eyes water.
Now that we’re on the way home, someone has organised a Murder Game. The rules are simple, everyone is given a piece of paper with the name of their murder victim on it. Killing your victim is simple – you must be alone in a room, or a corridor with him or her and simply say, ‘You’re dead.’ The victim then gives you the name of their intended target, which then becomes your target. The game can last for a week or longer. I lasted less than an hour. At 7.00 o’clock that the morning the game started, I ducked into the Conference Room to send an e-mail. Two minutes later, big Dan from Casey came in and said, ‘Good morning, Mike, I’ve got some bad news for you, you’re dead.’
It was a blessing in disguise as I saw my shipmates and friends slowly deteriorate from normal people into haunted paranoiacs. After several days, Yann said, “It’s not a game anymore, Mike. It’s a nightmare!”
The ship’s corridors became places where people would only walk about in pairs, and signs appeared around the vessel saying things like, “BT must die” and “Tamara is dead.” As I write this, we are down to five murderers, the rest of us are all dead.
On Saturday, we’ll be having the finals of the 500 competition, followed by a farewell barbecue on the Trawl Deck. The gym is a hive of activity as people work frantically to take off extra kilos gained over the past year, summer or just weeks depending on whether you are a long-term expeditioner or a round-tripper. One of the expeditioners, Dave has started a swing dancing class which has been well patronised and there are some excellent songstresses on board including Lucinda from ANARE and Aurora’s Third Mate, Carmen.
Our eagle-eyed skipper, Tony Hansen, caught sight of a huge floating kelp island which disrupted a few people’s equilibrium as we turned in a decent swell to bring it on board for marine ecologist Steve Smith to add to his collection. Steve later told us that he thought it had drifted on Antarctic currents from Kerguelen Island, possibly the world’s most remote island. I think he was also a little sheepish about the broken crockery and disruption which may have been caused by the sudden and sharp left turn we had just made – but no one was really upset – all part of the advancement of knowledge.
We should arrive at Hobart either late Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning, fair winds prevailing. I’ve learned that the final waypoint is the Customs House Hotel, so that’s where I’ll be on Wednesday night.
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