The cupboard of sorrow SEC=UNCLASSIFIED

The phone for us expeditioners to use is located in a storage cupboard in the rear stairwell. You go into this little windowless room, shut the door, turn on the light (which causes a red bulb outside to light up and show that the booth is occupied) and try to make yourself comfortable on the upended milk crate (a good way of discouraging long calls, as you end up with a criss-cross pattern on your arse). You’re in there with the industrial-size packs of toilet paper, some kind of switch box and an information sheet that tells you how to make calls and what they will cost – anywhere from 30c a minute to $10 a minute if I’m remembering correctly, and depending on what method is used. It adds a certain frisson to the phone calls that you can’t work out (or at least I can’t) which method you’ve used to connect the call, so the prospect of a multi-hundred dollar chat looms.

I just spoke to my partner Andi for half an hour (hang the cost). We are missing each other now, and counting the sleeps till I get home (which won’t be for another ten days, as I’m sticking around Hobart after we dock for the Mawson centenary celebrations), and it’s hard not to get a bit sad in these calls. I notice that the someone has kindly placed a box of tissues next to the phone instructions. There must be a few quiet tears shed in this cupboard. Of course it’s all relative – some of the winterers returning with me have been away from home and loved ones for 18 months, so my mere six weeks is next to nothing.

Now that we’ve crossed the Antarctic convergence we’re more or less in home waters, just 1500km from Hobart. Tomorrow we have to return all DVDs to the ship’s library (which seems a bit harsh – what about the remaining three nights?) and then it’s only a few more sleeps till we get to land. They say you can smell eucalyptus before you even see Tasmania.

Sweet dreams

Jesse xx

PS if you think the phone cupboard sounds claustrophobic, spare a thought for one of our number whose bathroom door lock jammed in her cabin bathroom yesterday. She was banging and yelling for several hours before finally someone heard and came to let her out…

Advertisements

About Jesse Blackadder

Living at the easternmost tip of Australia on the caldera of an extinct volcano, Jesse Blackadder is a novelist, freelance writer and Doctor of Creative Arts. She is fascinated by landscapes, adventurous women and very cold places and has published three adult novels and three novels for children.
This entry was posted in News. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The cupboard of sorrow SEC=UNCLASSIFIED

  1. Julie edwards says:

    The adventure of a lifetime is coming to and end but I’m sure just the beginning again for u jess as what u have done , achieved and experienced will stay with u for a lifetime and for us well when pen goes to paper then published we too can drift off into another world when we get to read your book . Enjoy what time u have left be safe getting home to family loved ones and friends and your humble abode nestled in the hinterland , certainly will be a different landscape to view once more to what you’ve had if late . Looking forward to that long overdue catch up. Cheers Julie xx

Comments are closed.