Team members say

Struggling for words

21st March, 2008

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.

We’ve arrived!

17th March, 2008

This morning there were birds flying all around the boat. Petrels, Albatross, and even Chinstrap Penguins resting in the open water. We sighted our first humpback whales this morning - a tremendous rush – only to be even more blown away when we sighted our first iceberg! It was so close that it seemed as if you could practically reach out and touch it. A pristine, splendid white mountain floating in the sea. Breathtaking. It was hard to grasp that it was even real. The day continued to amaze. We arrived at Bellingshausen around 6pm, after cruising by a tremendous glacier and seeing our first penguins!

I’ve been so thankful that we had such a calm crossing of the Drake Passage. We lost about 10-15 people for about 48 hours due to seasickness, but I am happy to report that I wasn’t one of them! We’ve been passing the time with basic activities, such as talking, playing cards, putting golf balls in our lounge, and attending brief lectures on climate change and local wildlife. We’ve also started shooting a remake of “Titanic”….minus the sinking part of course. It’s amazing what you can come up with to pass the time when there are no TVs to watch and you feel too sick to read!

I’ll sign off for now, and will hope that I have another blogging opportunity before too long. A special hello to everyone at Oliver Wyman, especially the NA EA Team. Marylou…give Boo a kiss for me! Hi Mom!

Lauren Wylie joins IAE 2008

17th February, 2008

Lauren’s initial thoughts on climate change…

I can’t help but notice that in the past few years the scale and frequency of tragedy caused by acts of nature has increased dramatically. The tsunami in Indonesia, hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, the cyclone in Bangladesh and the unusual winter tornado outbreaks in the southern us…just to name a recent few. Here in New York, I see less snow than I am supposed to, and the hottest summer days seem oppressive. In California, where I lived nearly my whole life until 2005, the storms I hear about seem unusually frequent and intense.