Curious Casey
Station life is something that you can’t really quantify into words when you talk to the family back home. It’s a group of people who all have lives of their own, their own quirks, routines and personalities existing harmoniously in a large, very red building known only as 'The Red Shed' (for further reading, check out Casey Station Updates 14 Aug 26). The Red Shed houses our sleeping quarters, mess, bar, cinema and community spaces to relax. Our mess is a never-ending source of amusement.
During onboarding for the season, all expeditioners must attend Summit Week, an interactive five days where we learn about life down south. The speakers talk all things station life including some of the things that could become potential rub points for a team. The dreaded empty milk jug in the fridge always gets an honourable mention and a giggle or two – those who have lived station life laugh because it's true and those first timers laugh because it seems so trivial.
But when you have 33 individuals living in what can only be described as a large share house, there are some observations that can be made that are so curious they're worthy of a Sir David Attenborough voiceover. Let me paint a picture for you, the reader.
Under the churn of a daily ritualistic work day, the first expeditioners awaken to find the cup tray full. Pre-caffeinated, they can only marvel as the tray is yet again stacked to the engineering perfection of the Great Pyramids of Egypt. As the Hobart dishwasher creates a symphony of swishes and the first cup of coffee it consumed, one tries to understand the thought process of last night’s cup bandit thinking there was “definitely more room on it” abiding by the full loads through the dishwasher rule.
The Casey dessert fridge houses a plethora of delicious sweets created by the master, Chef Matt – a bowl of custard lies perched behind the most recent birthday cake. Its contents appear to be custard but alas, she hides a secret - not one, not two but three dessert spoons hidden in plain sight like the sunglasses perched atop of a head during a search. A few weeks later, a tub of homemade raita in our catch and kill fridge communicates to the world its contents through the glass doors (via a very sophisticated masking tape label) with such assertiveness it is hard to confuse it – 'yogurt and spoon'. The tub is consumed and spoon located at the bottom finally free of delicious Indian delicacy 'bath'.
The unseen and unheard comedy festival of a community trying to decide between one or two milk jugs has continued over many months – neither side are willing to give up their position and the culprits remain faceless but their work evident. It is a constant source of amusement for those of us on the fence – one thing is for certain the milk jug never seems to be empty.
These small instances may seem trivial to those who haven’t lived such an experience like this but on station these could be the make or break of someone’s day. For us, the 79th Casey Winter Crew, these moments (while inconvenient) offer a moment of comedy while you scratch your head in amazement, in an instant they become the thing that makes you laugh throughout the day, and in a few weeks’ time become the whole joke.
Our season has had an unbelievable knack for not sweating the small stuff, waddling together and pulling up our sleeves to get it done with rambunctious laughter. As we recently ticked under 100 days till most of us return home, I know for me the things and people that make Casey Casey, will be the things that I will miss the most, spoons and all.
G’day to all the Casey families out there – Special shoutouts to Marie, Peter, Suzanne, Vanessa, Sarah and Mark.
Cliffy
Station Logistic Officer
