Don’t ya hate it when you lose something? Lose your wallet or phone - got to cancel your cards, get a new licence, wonder if someone got rich on the unscratched scratchy that was in there, change passwords, fork out for a new phone - the list goes on. It’s a drama, but you get on with it and in a few weeks, you’ve gotten over it and you move on.
In Antarctica, it’s a different story. When something is lost it cannot be replaced. There are no shops.
My first loss was my ear buds. I was using them while practicing on the drum kit down at the Pineapple. I placed a note on the message board with a diagram of the buds, but I don’t think the others took me seriously.
The next thing I lost were my glasses. They were expensive and fairly new. A group of us would regularly do a two-kilometre loop out to Marchant’s Landing and back, and I lost them along the way, so I knew where they were. We had a search party every afternoon for about two weeks, but no success. The terrain was too rocky and they must have been hidden very well - I thought. They were found not long after we gave up, ground into the dirt by the tracks of a Hägglund, only metres from the front door of our living quarters. They were lame. I had to put them down.
Many things were lost, misplaced, and found by others in our cohort from then onwards, but the ‘Bloke Who Loses Stuff’ status was firmly imputed to me for ever more. So much so that it was even inferred on the artwork of our kitchen’s daily menu board.
But the worst was yet to come. This week just gone, a party with myself and two others, went out to recce a melon at Trajer Ridge.
I lost my Phone.
Yep! Pictures, passwords, WhatsApp, everything! Recently, I managed to find a lost phone on an outing for Marshall QC. The phone was lost for about two weeks, but I thought that I knew where it was. Again, I was sure that I knew where I might have lost mine. But I have had that confidence before, haven’t I? “It’s in the melon,” I instructed the group that was leaving on Saturday morning to the exact same place. “I’m sure it is,” I concluded. I waited all of Saturday for a message from the group. “VLZ Davis. VLZ Davis. Ops normal. Let Chris know that we found his phone. Over.” But the message never came……
I wonder if they’ll have it when they come home?
“The Bloke Who Loses Stuff” status will stay a bit longer.
*Note - ear buds were found in coat pocket, that, I promise you, I searched several times… I DID…
Additional Note – they did find the phone...it was in the melon!
Chris
Carpenter
