New memories from magical Macca
This may be my second time on Macquarie Island, but no two seasons could ever be alike. My first time here in 2020 was my introduction to life down south. Everything was new, a little overwhelming, but wonderfully unforgettable. This season has been different in various ways, with new memories, new feelings, and an appreciation for the smaller things.
The island has its own emotional rollercoaster of weather. Some days it’s calm and misty, others wild with wind and hail attacking you horizontally. There are mornings where a soft snowfall has settled like icing sugar over everything, days where the rain leaves behind puddles for the seals to play and wallow in, and afternoons where the sun suddenly appears as if it remembered we exist. Each change in the sky is another chance to showcase the island in new moods and colours.
Some very cold nights, standing on the isthmus staring up at the aurora australis, trying to keep your hands warm, the greens and pinks are so bright and moving so fast that you almost expect to hear them make a sound.
The wildlife soundtrack is certainly unforgettable. Elephant seal weaners shrieking dramatically (usually for no reason), king penguins making loud declarations from the water, royal colonies chattering away like they’re mid-gossip, and light-mantled albatross calling to each other as they glide in synchronised pairs. Even on the quiet days, there’s always the sound of honking, growling, burping or muttering nearby (sometimes it might be human).
Out in the field, everything slows down when you leave station behind. There’s an easy sense of relaxation and contentment that comes with good company, beautiful scenery, hut-food experiments, and conversations that drift between life stories, hopes and dreams, fabulous nonsense, and the kind of laughter that makes you double over.
And there are the people. Cheerful faces heading to and from the field, the lift you get from a compliment on a super-slushy day feeding the crew, and those perfectly timed hugs from friends when things feel heavy. In amongst it all are the ones that can turn ordinary days into lovely ones, make the hard weeks more peaceful, and remind you that even in a place this remote, connection can have a way of finding you.
Lately I’ve found myself noticing more of the little things. Short walks in any weather, alone or with a friend, chatting to wildlife as if we already know each other, breathing in fresh air (when the wind isn't coming from over a seal wallow!), listening to the ocean on both calm and stormy days and quietly taking note of how beautiful this island is, and how precious it is to be here.
Alana-Jayne Moore
