I was full of befuzzlement before this trip. Things got on top of me. I was spent. Love Your Sister, The Stick, the BHP (Big Heart Project), the Logies nonsense, our structural issues, our desperate lack of operational funds; it all became too much, again!
Whilst I wasn’t in the best shape for the flights from Melbourne-Sydney-Buenos Aires-Santiago-Ushuaia, I somehow managed, courtesy of the resilient Meg Hall from Chimu Adventures, who must’ve wondered what the hell she was in for.
All of my baggage lifted once aboard the MW Ushuaia. Nestled in my bunk in my cute little cabin, as we rolled our way through Drake’s passage, it all just left me. None of it mattered here. For the first time since Love Your Sister began, I actually felt some peace. Some space. I listened to music, I read. Connie’s deterioration became clearer to me as the space grew, so I cried a fair bit. All good stuff.
I was aided perfectly by ‘The Big Mother’. That’s how I refer to Mother Nature. In Antarctica, The Big Mother doesn’t just reign supreme, she rules with impotent fury. Everything you understand and know to be important vanishes under her contemptuous eye. Survival is the only thing that matters. Here, she is at her most tempestuous, sure, but she’s also at her most magnificent. But don’t get lost in wonder, she can turn on a dime and leave you with no chance. The beauty, scale, harshness and wonder of the place are poorly served by our shitty photography and lame languages. They simply can’t do the place any justice at all. It really is the ultimate ‘you had to be there’.
Hello and welcome! Welcome to my deranged head. There’s another guy here. I call him a ‘guy’ loosely. He’s actually a bi-polar bear and his name is Henry. He’ll butt in whenever the fuck he wants and I refuse to hold myself accountable for his actions. Other than that it’s just me and my cat Thomas and my deceased dad’s worst records, coz they’re my faves.