Final view from Alan

I thought I would try and write a few lines to round off my contribution to the blog, actually, with Chris writing such a great summary I am hard pushed to add much to what he has already said. I agree with him in every point. One thought he has not expressed and one that really lingers with me but also causes me to wonder at my own mental outlook, is my general feeling about the trip. If I was to express it in a single word, incredibly, it would be disappointment. Even as I type it seems somehow wrong to have Antarctica and disappointment in the same sentence.

 

I first expressed this over the satellite phone, halfway through the trip, to my wife. I am still trying to come to terms with why I should feel this way about a trip that involved all my favourite sports i.e. sailing, climbing and skiing and travelled to a location I had always wanted to go to. I know the source of this is down to what I felt was a lack of real adventure. Again, this seems like a ridiculous statement as we climbed six unclimbed peaks and stood where no man had stood before; we sailed through ice choked channels to gain unchartered bays. So would appear to be full of adventure.

 

Chris, reminded me that before the trip, in one of our pub based planning sessions, that I had expressed a rather strange fear about the trip. Strange in that it was bi-polar; I was worried that the trip would either not be adventurous enough and be dull... or be too adventurous and I would be to scared to be able to contribute or enjoy the experience. So, it would appear that I had some premonition about this. Had I been a gambolling man though, I would have thought it would have been more likely to have been too scary not scary enough.

 

All this has caused me to question my expectations of the trip to see if this was the root of the disappointment and although it must be a large factor, the real cause was the guide-client relationship. Again, just like Chris, this is no veiled sleight at Guy, Luis or Mark but more a reflection on the way I live my life. Let me try to explain. I have a responsible job, that although is for a huge corporation, I have a very significant degree of autonomy. By and large, I make all the decisions. In my home life, I make the majority of the decisions. When I sail, I am the helm and make the all the important decisions. When I climb, we climb as a single unit and decisions are shared. As a client on this expedition I did not make any decisions. I wasn't offered the chance to make decisions. Whether they were, who to partner that day or what activity (ski or climb) to take part or what part of the island to explore. When the yacht was exploring, trying to find somewhere safe to anchor, this was true adventure for the skipper and the crew, but I remained an onlooker, not involved. So for me, this lack of contribution to any decisions meant I felt like a tourist.

 

Another element of adventure, for me, is risk and using your own skill, knowledge, and decision making to reduce the risk as much as possible is part of the fun. The guides ensured, arguably to significant a degree, that there was no risk. We all returned without even a bruise. At no point did I even feel close to being in a risky position, or that any decision made might lead to danger. Actually, quite the opposite, we backed off several peaks, close to the summit because something or other was not right. Either the snow was too soft or the crevasses were too big. I am certain that in some of these cases we could have pushed on, but most certainly increasing the risk of something unexpected happening.

 

Maybe that last line has caught it, nothing unexpected happened. As long as I heaved myself out of bed, dressed, ate breakfast and tied myself to whatever rope was chosen for me for the day then I would go somewhere, chosen for me and come back safe and well. Pretty much adventure free really.

 

Anyway, now I have that off my chest, I do have so many fantastic memories. Almost none of them are ones that I expected. Yes, I have great photos of penguins and icebergs but the memories that come to mind, again and again, are of the tales and nonsense spoken by my fellow travellers. I have a chest of anecdotes that will serve me for many years. In fact it never dawned on me that this could be such a great part of the trip. Indeed the great part of the trip. How easily it could have been so different. I can easily picture what the trip could have been like, if a less accommodating crew served poorer food, a less jolly group of people, a less tolerant couple of individuals, maybe mixed up with a bad egg, seasickness, a gastric bug and all hell would let loose. I can easily imagine mutiny taking place which would be a dangerous situation so many hundreds of miles from any civilisation. But maybe I am being overly melodramatic.

 

So my lasting memory of Antarctica won't be of Shackleton or Scott type experiences, nor will it be the incredibly amusing penguins, not even the horror of the seasickness but that of my new found boat mates;-

 

Mark: with his almost limitless supply of humorous Vet related anecdotes (none of which suitable for All Creatures Great and Small)

 

Dan the Narcoleptic: who could sleep though a volcano erupting, who suffered from some bipolar verbal disorder and is only the second American I have met who had any kind of sensible world view.

 

AJ: as solid as a mountain who had a fantastic ability to communicate without words, probably down to living with the wonderful Rewa. He always greeted you with a wide smile. A great listener.

 

Rewa: probably as insane a person I have ever met, more energy than a supernova and louder but great fun.

 

Gerry: who somehow managed only to deliver one joke a day but was always by far the funniest. Probably the funniest guy in the world. Should be on the stage Gerry.

 

Nicky: a very sane person unless mixed with a pinch of Rewa and a dash of Chloe

 

Arne: very dry and with a mountain of patience, congratulations on your engagement

 

And the incredibly attentive and amusing crew of

 

Tamsin: if only I could find a way of sharing her anecdotes, made us all laugh even in the darkest of times

 

Chloe: who can enjoy birthday's like you would never believe, try asking her about the midnight crevasse rescue through the boat hatches, but don't let her choose which movie to watch

 

Murray: who I am sure is still smiling from his Benny Hill like chases over an iceberg and who shamed us crampon, rope and ice axe clad climbers with his gum boot exploits.

 

Alison: who laughed like an eruption when "her Mark" first discovered the Tamsin Truth, and also kept a kind eye over the sick ones. Thanks.

 

Captain Kafka: laughing uncontrollably just before the punch line of his own filthy joke.

 

And last but not least to the guides

 

Mark: who was the most like climbing with a mate. Would be happy to climb or ski with Mark anywhere in the world.

 

Luis: who confided in me at the end of the trip that he had never met anyone as frank as me before. Sorry if you were the butt of too many jokes Luis but you just can't stop looking after you clients. If I was ever mad enough to want to be guided up Everest he would be the man.

 

Guy: who admitted that our group was the most base he had ever led but managed to drop to our level and still lower it from time to time.

 

So this draws my contribution to a close, other that to say that as of the end of March we have raised a fantastic £3000 for CLIC Sargent, so thanks to all of you out there in the ether that have contributed and if you haven't yet then please do so, every penny counts.

 

Chris and I will be presenting our photos and tales at a small series of talks to be announced shortly. So keep an occasional look here to see the announcement or click on the subscribe button on the left hand side to be automatically notified.

 

Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as we have writing it. Back to normal life...