A poem from our group
23 February 2006    
At some moment in time, collective madness prevailed,
A group of complete strangers decided to sail,
As far a trip south as is easily got,
Mode of transport chosen, a bloody great yacht.

66 South was the destination chosen,
Braving Drakes Passage for this continent all frozen,
Inhabited by weird creatures and temps below zero,
Thank Christ for the skipper, our unshaven hero.

It soon became obvious that with Steve at the helm,
He wouldn’t let small things like icebergs overwhelm,
Evohe it seemed, quite adept as icebreaker,
Ice bounced off her bows, not much seemed to shake her.

So this is how it was, that we made our way down,
To Antarctic Peninsula, adventure bound.

Such a pristine place, we were all loath to spoil it,
So from out of the bilges came the mighty poo toilet.
Every morning like clockwork it attracted a crowd,
Ensuing smells from the room would make any bloke proud.

Land finally sighted, the first icebergs near,
The fun just beginning….. Assemble your gear!

Lead from the front by His Royal Guyness,
A man legends made of, at home in the wildness.
Ruggedly handsome, and face whisker blessed,
Thighs like two small mountains, (though to this I can’t attest!)

Then there was Mark, our southern man in plaid,
The silent and strong type, straight from a Speights ad,
Always smiling and friendly, one of the nicest of chaps,
A gentleman in guides clothing or a dark horse perhaps?

And Luis looking much like that guy out of “Chips”,
Never short of a story or a handful of quips
Like a camp mother fussing with the utmost of care,
He was soon renamed as our own “Papa Bear”

These men from Adventure Consultants down under,
Were tasked with keeping things from going asunder,
No small ask on a boat with 17 personalities,
Not too mention the 5 combined nationalities.

Once destination reached and objectives found,
This gaggle on board were keen for new ground,
Armed with only sharpies, and rapier wit,
They headed for their “Everest” with determination and grit.

Tied together for safety, they tackled virgin terrain,
Guides yelling “mind the rope” again and again!!!!
Looking on from the sidelines, penguins and seals stayed remote,
Doubting the sanity of this weird group from that boat!

Back on board in the evenings, we were greeted each time,
By the fantastic crew, providing meals so divine!

From Chloes clean cucumbers, to Tamsins dirty jokes,
and Grandma with her two poor hen pecked blokes,
We were damn lucky to have such a fab team,

....Editor's note - we have enquired as to the end of the poem but the 'dispatcher' said it had to be censored!




Previous Dispatches
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Climbing into the murk    22 February 2006
Today dawned cloudy and showed signs of worsening but we had a crack at Mt Laprida anyways. The climbing started out as very soft snow but quickly improved to pretty good cramponing. It was about this

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Paradise Harbour    21 February 2006
We untied the Evohe and motored out from the sheltered channels of Vernadsky base at 7.30am while the team slept. Our intended climbing location for the day was accessible but threatened to be cut off

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Back to sea    20 February 2006
After our looong day yesterday, we finally said goodbye to Prospect Point and turned north to head back to Verdnasky Station.
We have a standing invitation to dinner there, and also plan on gettin

Later dispatches - Previous dispatches