A very important person in my life told me that there is a cost to every decision. She of course is right. Right, not just because she is my partner, but because I pay that levy every day. My decision to work in Antarctica has a cost.
Antarctica is a place for the adventurer. A place for those who want to test their skills in a remote and harsh environment. A place to make lifelong friends. A place where penguins tuck you into bed at night and bad weather only happens on weekdays.
I know these things. I have read the brochure!
I have now read that brochure five times. Hell, some of it is even true!
What the brochure does not tell you is that there is a cost. An emotional cost, to you, your family and your friends. Deep down we all know this and accept that cost as part of the adventure. We are willing to pay the price.
I am now into my fifth season (it is a very good brochure), exploring the ice, meeting new people, repairing and building something different every day.
I love what I do but there is a cost to every person that travels the ice. The biggest toll for most, is emotional. As humans we are emotional creatures, we care, we love, we nurture, we have families.
There are many firsts when living on an Antarctic Station, first ice berg sighting (it was huge), first time you encounter an Adélie penguin (cheeky little buggers), first trip out on the sea ice as a Trip Leader (OMG, what could possibly go wrong….). They are the ones we talk about to friends with excitement and joy.
The other firsts, the ones we keep close to our hearts and think about in the quiet hours, they are the ones that hurt, that cost us to the core.
Over the seasons I and many here, have missed events that changed our worlds and we paid the emotional cost of our absence.
The birth of a child, missed anniversaries, missed birthdays, a daughter’s wedding, death of a father, first steps, first driving lesson, a son’s death, a child’s first date, the birth of your first grandchild.
They all cost us.
Our family pay a price as well. They deal with these issues in our absence. All we can offer is a voice, and, if we are smart, an ear, just to listen and feel the emotion as it pours out over the phone.
Our partners pay the price with worry and concerns after we tell them that we will be only gone for a couple of days, travelling on sea ice, in -20 temperatures, with bad weather coming. We hear the concern in their voice, in their request to be careful. Their emotional cost is always larger than ours. The unknown is a torment of the mind.
I have loved my time here and I am grateful for the experience. It is time to let it go. My partner will greet me knowing that I have paid my dues to King Neptune and the ice gods. She will guide me to a new life with family, children and our home.
We start another adventure now, our plans will be heart centred, I will be there for that driving lesson, I will be there to hold my lady’s hand, to dance her around a café. No more paying the cost of absence.
A very important person in my life told me that there is a cost to every decision. I now choose to be home. I pay the bill with a grin.
William Santalab - Fitter and Turner
