Tui just came in to Lab 3 and said ‘Have you seen the noticeboard yet? We’re getting back on Saturday!’
I jumped up and scooted through the lineup of doors into the dining room and over to the noticeboard, and there it was in black and white (well, really in that kind of faded whiteboard texta blue and white). Pulling in to Hobart at 3pm Saturday. That’s less than 48 hours away!
It’s funny how you just get into the groove of the little self contained world of the ship and even though of course you’re thinking of your destination and all that, it still somehow comes as a surprise that you really will arrive. The sameness of the last week has a lulling effect that makes it feel like it will go on forever.
My heart is pounding. Tomorrow we have to pack up our Antarctic issue clothing and survival bags and return them. By 9am Saturday our cabins have to be clean and vacated. The adventure is nearly over.
My big decision, now the ship is docking four days earlier than scheduled, is do I jump on a plane and head straight home, or cool my heels in Hobart for almost a week until Friday so I can attend the Mawson Centenary dinner and the big celebratory flotilla on the Derwent River.
Home is looking pretty exciting, I must say.