Ship's log - Part 1 -
Thursday, November 4 It is eight o'clock in the evening. The ship is slowly moving away from the wharf after the crew released the moorings. I have long been waiting for this thrilling moment. However I have got a lump in my throat when thinking about the great adventure I am going to live. Little by little, the dusk makes the harbor look further away. Everybody has gathered on the upper deck to look at the lights of the town that will be seen long after the outline of Reunion Island has vanished in the darkness of the falling night.
Friday, November 5 There is nothing to do on the ship but walking up and down the deck and scrutinizing the empty skyline. Meals only put rhythm into this endless day. For the time being, we are sailing on a sea of glass. Things will change when we edge the roaring forties.
Saturday, November 6 The sea is desperately empty. As far as I can see, I cannot detect any wildlife. Today, we attended escape and rescue exercises, so the day went quickly.
Sunday, November 7 Today, we radioed the base at Possession Island. I talked to the technician; I am going to take over his duties in a few days. The stress increases. We admire the first double eagles that follow the ship, in search of waste food the cooks cast overboard. Their appearances mean that land is now close. At the end of this day, the sea is swelling and I am getting nauseous. The first effects of seasickness appear.
Monday, November 8 Although we approach the roaring forties, the sea is incredibly calm. More and more sea birds are hovering around the ship. I spend my last day on board with all the guys who are going to winter along with me on Possession Island for thirteen months. This evening, we organize a party to celebrate our imminent arrival. I feel astonishingly relaxed. I have no apprehensions. I would even say I am looking forward to discovering the island.
Tuesday, November 9 The island loomed through thick mist. It was covered in low clouds full of rain. It looked grim. Everybody gathered on the deck as the first lights of the dawn brightened the island. Most of us pulled long faces. I landed with the second run of the chopper. I took advantage of this brief flight to have an overview of the base and its surroundings. A dozen buildings, repositories and shelters are gathered in a small area. They look cramped for space amid this majestic and wild landscape. The warm welcome of the islanders compensated for the cold, wet weather. When the wind chased the clouds, the island unveiled its true face. Only two hours after I had landed, I took the helicopter to fly to the radio relay located at the highest point of the island, in order to repair its antenna. During the twenty-minute flight between the base and the relay, I discovered landscapes that were a far cry from those I had seen at first blush. I caught sight of an imposing landscape that took my breath away. Stony, barren deserts were followed by swampy meadows. Impetuous torrents winded down deep and narrow valleys, and then flowed into the ocean with a thick foam. At the far end of a large valley, the beach was bristling with penguins that, from a distance, looked like human beings. I am sitting now in front of my desk in my bedroom, trying to put into words the feelings I have been having throughout this endless first day on the island. It is midnight. I am exhausted, but I cannot get to sleep as so many pictures are haunting my mind. However, I should try to rest a little because of the hard work I will have tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 10 Although my bed is comfortable, I had a very bad sleep! The wind has been blowing a gale all night with a deafening noise. The building vibrated from the basement up to the roof in trying to resist the relentless wind's onslaughts. This evening, I will re-embark on the ship. Tomorrow, in the wee hours, we will try to fly to the relay that still needs repairs.
Thursday, November 11 It was a terrible night. We got shaken about in the ship all night because of the raging sea. The task of repairing the relay has been obviously cancelled. Therefore, I spent the morning in the wheelhouse observing a female killer whale that was teaching its baby how to chase penguins. I came back to the base at the end of the morning. The helicopter shuffled the last islanders to the ship which departed around noon to its next destination, Kerguelen Island. We are now cut off from the rest of the world until December. I began to settle in my bedroom after I got my personal belongings unloaded earlier this morning from the ship.
Friday, November 12 As usual, the day went quickly. I have been busy since I woke up at six o'clock in the morning. The job is new to me and I have to learn it as quickly as possible. This evening, the wind fell after it left the sky cloudless. From my window, I see East Island that nobody is allowed to visit in order to preserve its wilderness. Snowy peaks are glaring under the sunbeams, and they are turning pinkish colors in the dusk. It is midnight. I reluctantly avert my gaze from this imposing landscape.
I am now lying in bed. While I am beginning to feel sleepy, it dawns on me that it has been twenty days since I left my family, and I have to admit that, for the time being, I do not miss them. I feel a bit ashamed of that.
Saturday, November 13 The wind has been rising since the first hours of the night. When I stepped out of my bedroom this morning, I barely remained standing so violent the wind was. As usual, I had a lot of work today. The radio equipment is exposed to such a brutal climate throughout the year that it regularly needs repairs. After the work hours, Erick and I, we inspected the weights room. It needed a complete and thorough cleaning. Thank God, the treadmill works perfectly. Tomorrow, I will resume my training. As usual around 8 pm, the base staff gathered in the restaurant to share the meal. It is the most favorable time to socialize with each other. Everyone has an anecdote to tell about his or her workday . We always have fun at that time. After dinner, some of us had a drink at the bar, others played billiards or watched a film in our tiny movie theater. As for me, I preferred to go to my bedroom. I had to write a letter I will fax tomorrow to my wife. Still the wind was blowing in gusts. Getting to my bedroom has been a real assault course. Tomorrow will be our first day off; I am hoping for fine weather.
Sunday, November 14 When I woke up this morning, the wind was still blowing, so I decided to postpone my visit to the penguins at the beach. Instead, any volunteers and I, we gathered in front of the freezers with the cook, in order to inventory foodstuffs. As eating is one of the most vital things to people who are somewhat marooned on an island, everybody felt concerned about this task. As the wind eventually fell, I went to the beach after dinner in order to closely examine these famous penguins. In the middle of the rookery, the stink is proportional to the noise. The beach is bristling with penguins and their chicks, gathered in nurseries. Penguins are able to recognize their chicks among thousands of others, thanks to their own throaty and strident cry. Their senses of smell, taste and sight are not developed enough to use them efficiently. Enormous fatty seal elephants are lounging among them, unconcerned by the continuous comings and goings of penguins from the sea to their chicks. Some giant petrels and skuas that are the most common predators and scavengers on the island, are hovering over the nurseries, on a quest for stranded eggs. They sometimes spot stray chicks and they literally pull them into pieces with their mighty beaks and their sharp claws. The wildness and savageness with which they kill penguins could be a shock the first time one sees it. However, all the animals belong to the food chain and they are deeply involved in its balance. Human beings must not mess with this process at the risk of disturbing the chain. This first day off went too quickly and I did not have enough time to wade across the river to observe shy sea-lions that are used to frisking in endless fighting games. I will be sure to come back there very soon!
