Thursday 29 December 2011

Elephant Island

 From the comfort of the Fram it is hard to imagine the harsh conditions that Shackleton’s men had to endure in Point Wild. The Boss was long gone on an uncertain and dangerous voyage to South Georgia. Weeks and months passed but no relief ship appeared on the horizon. Frank Wild did his best trying to keep spirits but I was evident to anyone ashore that their situation was desperate. Nobody in the world knew their whereabouts and nobody would ever look for them in this small beach hidden behind a pointed rocky outcrop on the lonely northern shore of Elephant Island. Nobody but Shackleton…
Today, as MV Fram steamed its way into the small cove of Point Wild, the twenty two polar castaways of the Endurance were in everyone’s minds. The precipitous dark cliff behind the surf washed beach, the chinstrap penguin rookery that feed the helpless explorers and the menacing blue ice of the hanging glacier. Everything was there, exactly as it was a hundred and five years ago. Except for a little monument dedicated to Piloto Pardo.
As August passed by, the harshest part of the winter of 1916 was history. Unaware of the upcoming conclusion of the Endurance drama, the twenty two most destitute men of the Antarctic continued their mass slaughter of chinstrap penguins. Because it was the penguins, the grand grand parents of the very same penguins we are seeing today, that kept them alive. Then, on August 30th, 1916, the small Yelcho commanded by Piloto Pardo, appeared in the horizon. A rowing boat was launched. On the bow, the castaways recognized the figure of Shackleton. “Are you all well?” he said. “We are all well, Boss” replied Wild. The saga of the Endurance was over. So is our pursuit of Shackleton’s footsteps.
We are now heading towards the main group of the South Shetland Islands and the northern tip of the Antarctic Peninsula. Birds and whales are our only companions on this last stretch to the Seventh Continent. Tomorrow we will be in another world…