My Old Antarctic Home

For some reason I found myself thinking about Antarctica this morning. Probably because I've been recently corresponding with a few prospective customers from New Zealand, which was one of my favorite stomping grounds after leaving "the ice" (as we called it) after a season of working in McMurdo a number of years ago.

It may also be because today, on the beach at Cherry Grove (North Myrtle Beach, SC), the wind is just howling - and it sounds just like it used to in McMurdo on some of the nastier days.

Aside from the internet marketing work I have embraced over the last year or so, I would have to say that working in Antarctica was some of the most enjoyable time I have ever spent. It wasn't necessarily the jobs themselves, but the people who made it such a blast.

Please indulge me as I take a little trip down memory lane...

During the numerous seasons I spent at McMurdo, I recall thinking that we were all part of Peter Pan's "Lost Boys," and that we just were all a bunch of kids at heart. There really weren't that many of us back then - during my first season in 1984 I think there were about 900 men and less than 100 women. Living conditions were a bit more primitive than they are now, but none of us seemed to care.

For my first few seasons, I worked in the sheet metal department with a group of the most hilarious and fun-loving group of guys I have ever known. Sometimes, we would laugh until we would be a quivering mess, slumped over the sheet metal table - laughing so hard that tears would be falling down our faces. Who knows what we were laughing about... I recall, at Christmastime when everyone would be looking forward to mail. If there wasn't any mail on any given day's flights, we would woefully sing a modified version of "The First Noel," replacing the "Noel" refrain with "No Mail...No Mail..." and a few other choice lyrics. What we did to butcher or modify other songs is not fit for print.

Sometimes our personal renditions of various songs, stories or poems would take on a rather bawdy form. I recall a number of us in the "Foldaway" - the large building housing the carpenters, electricians, plumbers, welders, and sheet metal workers, participating in a type of "round robin" style of poetry, where each person would take a juvenile-type of poem, and re-write a line while illustrating it in our own special way. The result would be about an 8-frame comic of some of the most insane rhymes one could think of. They were, of course, the kind of poems where "you had to be there" in order to understand their meanings. I still have copies of these (maybe one day I can scan one when I get back up north).

I still stay in touch with a few of my old friends - my songbird singing partners Ann and Dawn, with whom I spent countless hours learning how to sing madrigals (thanks to Ann!) - and we became known as the McMurdo Madrigals, where our star (and only) performance was at the Art Show that our friend Neal (who is beyond genius)somehow cooked up. The imagination and different talents people had were unbelievable.

On my occasional visits back to NJ, I see our former construction superintendent Steve - who is now my brother in law. Art is still going back & forth to the ice and New Zealand with the National Science Foundation, and we talk on occasion - but a visit with all these people would be far better!

I often think of Gary and Mike and Nick in the sheet metal shop, and wonder where they are, and if they still laugh as much as we did then. The sheet metal department holds some memories for me that are downright sacred. I miss my fellow "Bio Blondes" Kristin and Lisa, and Steve and Jim (who were honorary Bio Blondes) with whom I worked at the old Bio Lab (which was dismantled after my winter over season). Hmmm. We laughed like crazy in there, too!

Wintering over with Dave, Dawn, and J.B. was amazing - we spent hours upon hours singing folk tunes...

I have hilarious memories of laughing insanely with Neal over scenes in "The Sound Of Music" that he re-interpreted in a manner that absolutely defies description... the fun group in the Chalet - Stephanie, Diane, Art, and Dawn... and singing backup with Kerri for Neal, Dane, and "Falling Bodies," the band that entertained at any excuse for a big base-wide party.

Ahh. I find myself smiling over these memories as I sit here on the beach of Cherry Grove - looking over the ocean, wondering about all the people who were part of my life, and hoping that - wherever they are, they are doing well, and have the same fond memories that I do.

Nearly 20 years later, I have accepted that I will not be returning to Antarctica, although revisiting New Zealand is certainly a high priority for me. But, as I watch from the sidelines as the "new watch" get ready to deploy each October (there are a number of people from northern NH who participate in this annual adventure these days), I can only hope that they are enjoying their experiences at least as much as I enjoyed mine.

Thanks for indulging my little journey back to the land of the Lost Boys, those crazy years on the ice - back when "the men were tough, the women were few, and the penguins were nervous..."