Wild seas, uncharted and littered with goliath icebergs.
Calving glaciers and avalanching mountains.
Vast, empty coastlines. Raw, rugged and inhospitable.
Remote islands littered with penguins, humpback whales so prolific they’re a navigational hazard.
Delightful pockets of Antarctic moss and lichen, revealed briefly in the Polar Summer sunshine.
These are some of the things I was lucky enough to experience in the time I spent working on 70ft motor sail yacht, Australis, in the Antarctic Peninsula.
Like any good adventure – as well as being amazing and awe-inspiring- this experience challenged every fibre of my being. I experienced a fair amount of stress and fatigue, and had to draw on all the knowledge and skills I had acquired over the years. I expected to be tested, and I certainly was.
Every single day, I would think of Tucker (especially when I was flaking the chain, or dealing with a blocked head) and all the people associated with her, and how grateful I was for the tools I was given from that time.
I wanted to share this experience because of how it all started.
It starts with the Tucker.
Back in 2009, I did my first 7-day youth training voyage on the good ship, and it had a profound impact on me, as a shy little 14 year old.
From then on, I spent as much time as I possibly could on the ship, volunteering in the Summer as well as doing another voyage the following year. Shout out to crew member Miranda Shackell for taking me under her wing and supporting my obsession.
As I reflect on that time, I see that the Tucker voyage allowed me to step away from the comfort of familiar people and places, and start to learn about my own individual identity.
Once I’d left school and been to university, fate lead me back to the ship- this time as paid crew. Over the next couple of years I experienced and learned a wide range of things, which now form the foundation of my identity.
From sailing, boat maintenance and knowledge to interpersonal relationships, human behaviour and team dynamics, as well as cooking, provisioning and taking care of others, the Tucker and her crew – both young and old – opened up my world even more.
Over the next couple of years, I had opportunities to work and travel on other boats further afield. But I could never seem to stay away for too long.
How does this relate to Antarctica though?
It’s all about who you know- as they say!
I first met Magnus when he joined the ship around 2018, and he infected my brain with his epic stories from the deep South, where he and his partner Ana had been working.
Last year I happened to be working on a boat directly opposite Tucker, and one day I bumped into Magnus on the dock. Our yarn was fairly short, but it had a big impact.
Magnus: “Hey El! Do you want to go to Antarctica?”
Me: “Ummm yes?!”
And then I blinked and I was standing on a very remote island among thousands of penguins with a big grin on my face, wondering how I got so lucky.
There is something very special about the ship, and it runs deep.
I feel as if all the people involved in her construction not only constructed her physical form but also built in her values – of comradery, of adventure, of the joy and privilege we share of being alive, and able to sail in these beautiful places.
I am so grateful to the ship for providing a space for me to develop and grow, and for all the opportunity that has come my way.
Eloise
