Eddie Does Ice: Field Training Take 2 (Part 2)

... so... I've been a bit distracted, there were alarms and orcas and auroras and it's all slowly making it's way down the pipeline to you. But I've neglected this story far too long (possibly out of embarrassment? You'll see why in a moment), lets kick on ...

Happy campers one and all.

Straight back into the featherbed! We're trudging along early on the second morning. It's a lovely day and I'm enjoying just being outside so I've zoned into walking, I'm at the end of the group and lost in thought, just following footsteps.

We're walking through water at the time, I can literally see the ground ripple with every step, but i'm in gumboots and I'm feeling good. Half a step ahead I see a very narrow, clear little stream. No dramas, gumboots, no need to adjust trajectory.

...

One of the valuable lessons that I learned while field training at Macca is that clear little streams are in fact dirty great lies. They are, in fact, portals to subterranean oceans.

Unfathomable depths.

I was saved from a watery grave by virtue of it being quite a narrow bottomless abyss, so I only fell knee deep before my other leg got stuck on what passes as ground in the featherbed. So began stage two of my impromptu practical education on Macquarie Island: gumboots are waterproof in both directions.

The boots I was using are pretty neat. As far as I'm aware they're a New Zealand made workboot for dairy farmers, but it boils down to a half-shin length rubber gumboot with laces so that the boot can provide some support. They're not the super fancy-pants Goretex mountain boots I bought myself for the trip, but in many ways they're better suited to the terrain here.

That is, as long as you can keep the waterline below the boot line. Unfortunately falling knee deep into a landlocked ocean is not in compliance with this requirement. So - status update - I've got a boot full of water, a pack full of gear, and a full day of off-track trekking ahead of me. What's the plan? Find some (comparatively) dry ground, empty the boot, put a dry sock on and push onwards of course! Which leads us neatly into the third and final part of my Macquarie Island Society adventure (MISadventure) (get it?) trifecta.

Buzzy's.

Buzzy's are a bit like the bogeyman for incoming expeditioners. Over and over again you'll hear about them from experienced travellers who were leaving the island. "Oh, the buzzy's will ruin that." "No, you can't do that because of the buzzy's." So, naturally, you ask some questions.

Through my carefully cultivated network of informers the best I was able to determine was that they're "like... some kind of prickle?".

And yeah, it basically is. But it's an endemic, prolific, sticky little bastard that will hook its seed balls into anything (even plastic outer layer) and then spread throughout your gear, until everything you touch is a spiky ball of discomfort. Buzzy's in your gloves, jacket, hat, hair, boots, pack, thermals, socks, spare socks, and the socks still in the drawer at home.

Of course, these are all things that I learned moments after deciding "hey this nice firm high bit of ground looks perfect for taking my pack and shoes off". It didn't take long for me to realise that I had made an error in judgement, and I attempted to minimise the damage by keeping all my things stacked on my pack... but some mistakes can't be unmade, and I spent the rest of the walk having these lessons reinforced by the jabbing of a million tiny needles.

The show must go on though, and on I kept going, down the Aurora Cave Track towards the Flat Creek Jump Up, where we would break off trail and work through navigation exercises to meet up with our Ranger in Charge down island. This was an important opportunity for the Field Training Officer and Ranger in Charge; they were able to demonstrate that off-track doesn't lead to forbidden vistas and towering peaks, but to long slogs of endless featherbed and undulating buzzy fields.

"And if you turn left here, life will be more difficult."

Our accommodation for the evening was at Brother's Point, about equal latitude to Bauer Bay but the other side of the island. The hut is a "Googie" or "Smartie" hut, an exotic design that I've only ever seen used by the AAD. It's one of the two little flying saucers we have at Macca, but is pretty similar to the Googie I stayed in on Bechervaise Island at Mawson.

Home away from home away from home, and a welcome opportunity for a warm drink.

We were pretty knackered after a long day of hiking, and settled in to playing hut games before crashing out at Macca Midnight (9pm).

Dawn broke to our perfect weather turning a touch windy, and with forecasts of deteriorating conditions through the day. Eager to avoid exfoliation via sand to the face, we fixed station firmly in our sights and started north along the east coast. Along the way we paused for a morning rendezvous with our old friend RIC to discuss the tourism at Sandy Bay, to pay homage to the local colonies of King and Royal penguins. Most of the rest of the trek home was across beach boulders with short stints of inland go-arounds through tussock and bog. And then, before we knew it, North Head and station were in sight, and we were back home. Eager for a shower, a nap, and another chance to get off station.