Instead of sailing home, I got on a plane they said was definitely probably going to Mawson.
Soooo, funny story…
I have just finished a year at Davis. The ship arrived, resupply occurred, containers flew around, the usual chaos. And then the ship turned around and left ... with me still in Antarctica.
Instead of getting on the ship like the homesick, crusty, old winterer that I am, I boarded the Twin Otter and flew to Mawson. A bold choice fuelled by equal parts opportunity and insanity.
About a month before the ship arrived, I’d been chatting to Bonny at head office, the Team Lead for the ICT uplift project. He told me how much work he had lined up at Mawson for summer. It occurred to me that I wasn’t quite ready to hang up my beanie, so I threw my hand up and before I knew it I was committed to Antarctica for another four months.
I told my Davis crew very diplomatically “I’d rather work another four months than spend two more weeks on the ship with you peanuts.”
In reality, opportunities like this don’t come up too often
- installing and commissioning a brand new satellite ground station,
- upgrading the old one,
- and installing two new 4G cellular networks.
For a comms nerd, that’s basically Christmas, New Year’s, and a tax refund all at once. So when the ship arrived, I knew I wouldn’t be boarding and I felt completely fine with that. Then we did resupply. Busy, chaotic, organised bedlam. Still fine.
Then the old, crusty Davis crew walked out onto the sea ice for the last time and boarded the ship. I even walked out with them, knowing full well I wasn’t getting on. And still, I felt fine.
Lots of hugs. Lots of emotional goodbyes. Everyone was sad I wasn’t coming home. Troy wouldn't stop hugging me, Cam was on the ground holding onto my leg as I tried to walk away, Griffo a blubbering mess and Greggum wailing like a wounded animal. Loz was way too emotional to speak with tears welling up in her eyes to the point where she couldn't see (This is my story and I'm sticking to it).
So naturally I comforted them by saying “You’re dead to me. I’m all Mawson now.”
The ship departed. I waved her off, still feeling like everything was sweet.
But the next day, when the ship wasn’t there anymore I suddenly had a moment of “What have I done?!” and then a strong feeling that I was missing my friends, the old crusty Davis crew.
It was a tough year by all accounts, but I made some genuine friendships and learned a lot about myself. I came away with a lot of respect for people’s ability to persevere.
A few days later I boarded the Twin Otter, a fine aviation machine powered entirely by Canadian maple syrup.
Upon landing, the Mawson mob greeted me with flowers and singing, handed me a pina colada and carried me on their shoulders triumphantly into the red shed where I received a big hug from the Station Leader (again, this is my story, you don't know any different so you have to believe me). I raised my hands in the air and the crowd fell silent. "I bring gifts of microwave popcorn and peanut M&Ms." They all cheered.
I received the standard Mawson Station induction with “that’s where the wind tries to kill you” and “that’s where we hide when the wind tries to kill you.”
I was ready to dive straight into important work like fixing things, upgrading the internet, maybe even pretending to understand the project that I had volunteered for.
But no. My survival training had ‘just’ lapsed.
Not months.
Not weeks.
Just.
Before I could unpack a single sock, the FTO tossed me into a Hagg with Jess the bird nerd and off we went for survival training. Two nights they said, it'll be easy. Basic refresher.
Nature disagreed. Somehow between Davis and Mawson I had made Antarctica angry.
A simple two nighter turned into a full blown three night Antarctic endurance saga courtesy of a blizzard that rolled in like it had a personal vendetta. The winds were so ferocious that I saw a weddell seal fly past the window like that cow that was sucked into the twister in that movie that I can't remember the name of (look this may or may not have actually happened, but it's my story, if you don't like it go read Casey or Maccas boring updates). Side note, I had my first Fray Bentos pie in a can. Don't recommend it, not without a lot of tomato sauce.
Then the following week I scored a day trip out to the Auster penguin colony to help the bird nerds (more formally they are called scientists). There were thousands of emperor penguins with their chicks. It was one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been to, a true Antarctic experience.
I'm into the swing of things now, getting stuck into the project. But I feel like it's the calm before the storm. The storm being Cyclone Bonny. Once he arrives I think I'll be working 25 hours a day eight days a week.
Tomorrow I start my first slushy shift at Mawson. A sacred rite of passage, respected across generations and universally feared.
Naturally I’ve decided to make it fun.
As I unload the dishwasher, any item I don’t know the location of will be placed somewhere completely random. Then the chef has to guess where I put it. Chefs famously love games, surprises, and unpredictability. They absolutely adore it when the slushy injects mystery into a highly structured kitchen workflow.
I calculated how many days in total that I would be away from Australia. Exactly 537! It's unfortunate because it makes getting a book deal more complicated.
I'll get back to Oz at the end of March, then more pina coladas on a Spanish beach.
Happy birthday Dad.
From Antarctica.
Again.
Still.
Somehow.
Brenno the Comms Tech
