Oliver Wyman's Inspire Antarctic Expedition 2008

You will read blogs that walk you through where we’ve been, what we’ve done and what we’ve seen. Blogs that diligently lay out our schedule, the weather conditions and each stop on the map. You will read intricate descriptions of the magnificent nature and wildlife in Antarctica. Just not on this blog. I have never been good with words, even less with maps, and I cannot tell you the different types of seals even if my life depended on it. What I would like to do is take you through my own personal journey so far and leave the rest to the more knowledgeable and skillful.

In my first blog, which was written before we reached the coast, I described my experience as “unusual”. The moment we landed it grew to “extraordinary”, and it soon reached “spectacular” - and I hadn’t taken more than a few steps from the zodiac! Since then the intensity of what we have been through has shot up to such high levels that it took me some time to finally catch up. Today, on the eight day of our expedition, I caught up. Why did it take me so long? Well, I’ve been so busy not getting seasick, dressing up warmly, attending lectures and briefings, and taking pictures of everything that is moving and even more pictures of the things that are not moving, that I didn’t make time to actually step back and absorb it all. Today, I stood up on the deck, unglued my camera from my nose and just took a deep breath. That’s when it hit me. Hard.

Antarctica is the perfect place for self exploration. She strips off your defensive layers one by one until you stand before her plain and transparent. She strips off all your protective disguise, all the different faces you wear - for your mother, for your lover, for your friends, for your boss. You stay before her vulnerable, all your fears and weaknesses exposed. And strangely, you feel at peace. As if you met the oldest friend you could ever have - a friend from once upon a time when the sea was clear, the land was untainted and the snow was blindingly white and pristine. And you feel an urge to share with her all your deepest treasures and all your darkest secrets. Because she will listen and accept you as you are, without judging or questioning. You don’t need to prove anything to her - how fast you are, how smart, how detail-oriented. You don’t need to say anything - how beautiful she is, how powerful, how ageless. How much you want her to stay forever as she is now. How she makes you feel safe and protected, and oh, so at home. And how you will do anything, anything! to give her protection so that your children can face her one day as you are facing her now. There is no need for praise or promises. Because at this moment it’s just you and her. And it finally feels right.

I’ve never been one to struggle with words. Until now. I think my roommate, Claire, put it best when she said that there are no words in her vocabulary to describe what we are seeing and feeling. I wholeheartedly agree. To have two straight days filled with glorious sunshine in Antarctica is priceless gift. To be able to see the tops of the majestic mountains all around us, rather than imagining what they might look like because they are hidden behind a cloud, gives me a kind of satisfaction that I don’t think I’ve ever experienced in my life. It is impossible to describe the experience of sitting on the side of a mountain, in the snow, having discussion about leadership, only to be interrupted my the roaring sound of an iceberg three times the size of our ship breaking right in front of us. It’s as if Mother Nature herself was sending out a plea for help.

The people here are wonderful, quite diverse and from 25 different countries. As we cruised through Iceberg Alley yesterday morning, it occurred to me that there couldn’t possibly be anywhere else in the world at that moment where 70 virtual strangers were experiencing complete and utter contentment together. No drama, no conflict, no tension, no judgment. Only peace and utter joy.

…. 10 minutes later

To give you an idea of what it’s like here…as I was about to save this entry, the bridge announced a sighting of Orcas (killer whales). Keep in mind that Orcas haven’t been seen out here since early January. Every single person on this ship, including the crew, dropped what they were doing, grabbed cameras (which you must have on you at ALL times), and rushed out into the freezing cold. I was the first person to reach the bow. Off the starboard side of the ship was a family of Orcas. They cruised along aside the ship before turning towards us and crossing the bow about 50 yards in front of us. I don’t know if the tears running down my face were from the bitter cold wind or my emotional reaction to seeing these elusive creatures in their natural habitat. Either way, it was absolutely spectacular.

Eric, a co-worker also on the Inspire Antarctica Expedition 2008, described Antarctica as a world created by Salvador Dali – absolutely surreal. Penguins look like mallard ducks dressed up in tuxedos, clumsily walking on the ice. When walking becomes too tiresome, they resort to swimming belly-first on slopes of snow. Seals scatter themselves across the shoreline, looking like an unusual, hybrid animal with a whale-like tail and puppy face.

Icebergs, like islands, pop out of the crystal clear water; small lily pads of ice float on the surface, creating patterns in the ocean. The actual continent contains no trees or greenery; instead, volcanic rock and snow create the most breathtaking hills and mountains ever seen. For the last week, I have had no human contact outside of the other 80 team members and 30 staff on our boat; we have been completely isolated, allowing us to connect with nature uninterrupted.

After spending a few days in this spectacular, mysterious continent, I can understand Robert Swan and the 2041 teams’ passion for Antarctica. It is the only place in the world untouched – and has the potential to remain pure for future generations. Seeing Antarctica firsthand helps the message of global warming and environmental consciousness to resonate. In a global sense, it is important to preserve Antarctica; in a local sense, it is important to take small, everyday steps to reduce our individual waste.

Three airports, one ticket change and a few vertical-sitting naps later, I arrived at the Hotel Del Glacier to be a part of a diverse group of environmentalists, students, teachers, artists and professionals, whom would be venturing to the remote wilderness of Antarctica. Our first few days consisted of many introductory conversations (i.e., “Hi, I am Tamara with Oliver Wyman.”) and a beautiful climb up the glacier mountain, where I quickly realized that perhaps I should have continued exercising post-college.

During one of our first lectures, Annie, the CEO of 2041, spoke about her love for the continent of Antarctica. While listening, I grasped onto the concept that Antarctica is the only continent in the world with no native population, where Mother Nature rules rather than a president or king. Correspondingly, as our ship began to sail away from the coast of Argentina, I read the large banners on the dock stating, “You are leaving the end of the world.” Although I have always considered the world, earth and globe as one, interchangeable entity, I realized that Antarctica, although within our earth, is actually a world of its own, with different rules, landscapes and beauty. By being taken out of my world for two weeks and placed in the unique land of Antarctica, I hope to come back rejuvenated and with a different viewpoint on life.

After two days time, several Dramamine tablets and a few creative ways to pass the time (i.e., reenactments of scenes from the Titanic and a miniature golf tournament), we finally spotted land. The ship sailed past an iceberg and several whales this morning, giving sign that we were close to the coast of Antarctica. As my jaw dropped and index finger rapidly pressed on the shoot button of my camera, I knew that I was at just the beginning of an extraordinary adventure.