Days coming to a close at Davis station
Wintering at Davis station is one of the most challenging experiences of your life. When the RSV Nuyina departed and eventually the sea ice closed in, I felt the reality of our isolation sink in. For months, there would be no resupply, no visitors, and no way out. My world had shrunk to the station, the people I shared it with, and the frozen landscape that surrounded us.
The darkness was one of the hardest parts at first. Days seemed to blur together. I found myself craving light, even just a sliver of brightness on the horizon. But with the darkness came its own rewards; the aurora australis shimmering across the sky, shifting curtains of green and red that made me forget the cold biting at my face. On clear nights, I would stand outside longer than I should, my eyelashes freezing, just to take in the beauty.
Inside the station, community became everything. We relied on each other not just for work, but for laughter and encouragement. Shared meals, movie nights, and the midwinter celebration helped break up the monotony, even though that had its own dramas. I learned how important small rituals are—morning coffee, gym and a maintenance job, or just the routine of checking in on each other’s wellbeing.
The work itself gave me purpose. Every task, whether it was maintaining Bureau equipment, clearing snow, or helping in the kitchen or gym, reminded me that I was part of something bigger. Knowing that our efforts contributed to climate research and understanding of this unique environment gave weight to even the most routine jobs.
Antarctica constantly humbled me. Walking outside, I felt small against the vast white expanse and the relentless winds. Yet I also felt incredibly alive. The silence out there is unlike anywhere else—so complete that even the crunch of my boots seemed to echo.
When the sun finally returned after 4 weeks of darkness, I stepped outside to watch its first glow on the horizon. I had never appreciated sunlight so deeply. It was a moment of renewal, a reminder that even in the harshest environment, light always comes back.
Wintering at Davis station tested my resilience and patience, but it also gave me perspective. I learned to value simplicity, friendship, and the quiet strength of enduring together. Antarctica is harsh, but it is also magnificent, and being part of it, even for one winter, is something I will carry with me forever, even if the return journey has now been delayed by a further two days...oh how I long to return to the mainland.
Cam Griffin - Technical Officer 4 - Bureau of Meteorology
