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Pete's Post - April 2005

People often use human terms to describe the environment - we talk about "Mother Nature" and "angry seas". In reality, the environment is neutral, and we humans must learn how to cope with it in a safe and enjoyable manner. If we understand and appreciate what is occurring around us, we'll have a better chance of surviving, completing our mission, or having an enjoyable day.

I was reminded of this during a recent SAR exercise. There's an old adage, "There's no such thing as extreme cold - only inadequate clothing". My feet were cold in my Scarpa plastic boots, my fingers were hurting, and my cheeks were starting to feel frost nipped. My pack was only a few metres away, but I couldn't easily reach it - I was busy tending the rope at the edge of a big crevasse as the victim (my American friend, Dave) was being hauled out in a stretcher. By now he was genuinely in the early stages of hypothermia, having been in the crevasse for 40 minutes before we even arrived on the scene.

Everything seemed to be taking too long as we prepared the rescue. I was starting to get grumpy with the delays. Dave was complaining about the cold and asking us to just get him out of there. The temperature was minus 25 degrees and there was a chilly breeze. Mother Nature was obviously out to challenge us today.

I turned around to check the ropes, and to give an instruction to the rest of my team. At this point I caught sight of the mountains across McMurdo Sound, which looked far larger, clearer, and closer than normal. A weird mirage effect, called a morgana, extended across the bottom of the mountains, causing them uplift from the surrounding ice by about an extra third of their height. The mountains glowed orange, due to the low angle of the sun at this time of the year. "This is why you came here", I said to myself as I turned back to continue with the rescue.

After that, things didn't seem nearly so bad. I quickly removed my frozen leather gloves and shoved them into my jacket to warm them up. If I shielded my hands by keeping my back to the breeze, then two layers of liner gloves were sufficient. I pulled the hood of my jacket closer to my face, and it trapped enough of my exhaled breath to keep my cheeks warm. (Well, maybe warm is an exaggeration but the frost nipped sensation stopped.) I stomped my feet to keep the blood circulating to my toes, and quickly ate the Turkish Delight bar that I keep in my jacket pocket.

Within a few seconds my personal attitude to my environment had changed, and my comfort level had improved dramatically.

We were told afterwards that the rescue had proceeded very smoothly, and the instructors were impressed with how quick and effective we had been. The temperature hadn't been particularly cold by Antarctic standards, but there were a few things we could try that might keep our feet a bit warmer. I decided to keep a few extra items in my jacket pocket - especially my neoprene face mask.

For me, the big reminder was not to complain about the conditions, but to concentrate on coping efficiently with them. It's your attitude to your surroundings that seems to make a huge difference.

And I remembered that it's a privilege to be here. I mustn't get so focused on my work that I stop enjoying the view.
Pete de Joux from the Antarctic