Leading on the Edge

A note from the author

Firstly, a big thank you for buying this book. I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and reliving one of the most incredible times of my life.

I spent an amazing 16 months with 17 wonderful people. We had our ups and downs and highs and lows, but each one of my Antarctic expeditioners is special to me and unique in their own way. Living in such close proximity for so long meant we got to know each other intimately. We saw each other at our best and at our worst.

Now, our worst is something that usually goes unseen, because in normal environments we're just not put under so much pressure that we reveal it. So to protect the privacy and reputation of my fellow expeditioners I have been a little creative with names and genders in some of the stories. I hope, reader, you don't mind too much. But if you put yourself in their shoes, it would be unfair to be written about in a way that doesn't reflect who you are in a normal environment or under normal circumstances.

We took so many photographs down there! I wanted to include them all, but to keep the size and cost of the book manageable I've introduced just a few in the book. But don't despair! Visit my website, www.leadingontheedge.com, where I have uploaded lots more photographs depicting what was going on at each stage of the story. You'll also find a short epilogue, just in case you were wondering what happened in my life after I got back.

Lastly, I'd love to hear about your own leadership journey and your reflections on the book. So please make a comment on the website. I'll endeavour to respond to each one.

Enjoy the book and remember, it's always better to regret the things you did, than regret the things you didn't do.

Regards,

Rachael

Acknowledgements

Several important people have made this book possible and I would like to thank them publicly.

Firstly, to my gorgeous husband Ric. You have given me the confidence to go out and do something I love and supported me all along the way. Thank you for your wisdom, insight and guidance as you read, and re-read the draft chapters and prepared the book for publishing. You inspire me! My life changed irrevocably the day you walked in and I have loved you, and been in awe of you, every moment since.

Secondly, I want to thank my four beautiful stepchildren, Doug, Julian, Anthony and Georgina, and my wonderful son Louie. You make me smile and balance my life. You teach me new things every day and I watch all of you in wonder. I'm so proud of you all.

To the 17 men and women of the 58th Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition - my heartfelt thanks and gratitude. While we all had our moments, myself included, I remain so proud of every one of you. They way you pulled together as a team, the way you delivered on every project and, most importantly, the way you cared for each other, truly inspired me. I hope whenever you hear the Pina Colada song you think back and smile.

To my fellow expeditioners and station photographers Peter Nink and Ian Phillips - thank you for generously and willingly supplying many of the amazing photos contained in this book and uploaded on the website. You both captured this wonderful place in all its vivid glory.

Thank you, Mrs Purcell, for opening my eyes to English literature at the age of 15 and setting me on a course of adventure and excitement.

Thank you, Mark Stone, Brett Cheatley, Annie Volkering, John Goodman and David Young at Parks Victoria, for your support, trust, guidance and patience.

To my former colleagues at Parks Victoria - thanks for a fantastic 18 years. I have so many wonderful memories of my time at PV. I know the critical role you play in protecting and enhancing our precious natural assets is often unacknowledged, so from me to you - a bloody huge well done!

To the wonderful team at Wiley - thank you, especially Lucy Raymond and our awesome editor Jem Bates. Your patience, insights and advice were much appreciated. This publishing game is a tricky business and your support and belief in the book made all the difference.

I also want to thank the audiences who continue to invite me to present to them. I have spoken at more than 350 events over the past six years. I am continually amazed at the questions from the floor. You have given me many insights into my own life that I would not have had otherwise. Seeing your faces and interacting with you is one of my greatest joys. Thanks too, to my fabulous management team at Ode Management for supporting and inspiring me and for keeping my professional life in order, especially Julie Winterbottom, Leanne Christie and Heidi Gregory.

To the best friend a girl could ever have - Michelle Arthur. You have been my buddy for over 30 years now and I look forward to sharing the next 30 years with you. You are simply wonderful.

Thank you to my wonderful family, Shaz, Loz, Aunty Pammy, Ben, Jane, Sam and Tim. The only reason I could take up the challenge of leading an Antarctic expedition was because I knew I would be coming home to the most amazing, supportive family in the world. It made the decision that much easier.

Finally, especially, to my beautiful, wise and extraordinary Mum. I love and adore you. Your strength got me through the dark times down south. You were, and you remain, my aurora in the dark sky. Shine on!

Preface

I don't know exactly what it was that woke me up that time. It could have been the crash of my laptop as it slid off the table onto the floor; it might have been the crunch of my neck as I yet again slid up the bunk and whacked my head on the bulkhead. Perhaps it was the series of ship's noises as the icebreaker crested the 11-metre swells, the mighty rush of water and the 120-kilometre-per-hour winds ripping through the superstructure, the feeling of weightlessness as the ship first hung in the air then plunged downward to hit the surface again with an almighty boom, jarring every rivet, every tooth and every frayed nerve . . . Yes, maybe a combination of these things woke me.

It wasn't the first time I had been woken that night. By this stage I hadn't slept through the night in over a week. What sleep I did get was 30 minutes snatched here and there when my body simply shut down. It was cold, uncomfortable, wet and terrifying.

I rearranged my pillows for the twentieth time, searching for some combination of cushioning that would protect the top of my head, my neck and my ankles from the fore and aft sliding along the bunk. But then I would have no protection from the side-to-side rolling of the ship and my sides would be battered!

They say people who have never been seasick can't appreciate the depths of despair it brings. It's not just an upset tummy. Everyone's heard the term 'green around the gills' . . . it just doesn't capture the sallow, pasty sheen you turn when you're seasick. Plus you feel a million times worse than you look. There are stories of cruising sailors locking up their sick crew (difficult in a small sailing craft!) for fear they will throw themselves overboard. Death really does feel like a viable option.

As I lay there, willing myself into a coma, I thought back to our training - three months in Hobart accruing all types of skills, cramming checklists into our already overburdened brains and 'weather-testing' our bodies. Our seasickness checklist came to mind:

Ginger: Check. Glazed ginger between tongue and cheek now for two weeks - no effect.

Water and dry food. Yep, drinking lots of water and eating dry biscuits, which usually take about four minutes to reappear from the same place they went down.

Stay above deck in fresh air. Ahhh . . . no. Can't do that, I'd be blown back to Hobart.

Avoid anything that requires small motor skills. Does this include buttons and zippers? I can barely manage to speak, so anything as complex as buttons and zippers is out of the question.

Lie down on your back, near the centre of the boat. Check. That's not working either, for obvious reasons.

Avoid strong fumes. This would include diesel, yes? A thin film of the oily stuff covers the cabin floor and my clothes and has leeched into my hair. I can't avoid this. Showers aren't an option, even if I wanted to relax standing under the hot water I couldn't. It takes two hands just to hang on and stay upright. Level of difficulty: 4.5.

Steer the boat: Hmm . . . I'm not sure P&O Maritime Services, the owners of our expedition ship, would consider this appropriate!

Swallow your pride. Thanks for that. Whoever wrote the handbook obviously had never been seasick! After half an hour, any pride I had is emptied into my bucket - which, by the way, is currently strapped to my wrist.

So as I lay there thinking, 'This did not end well for the Titanic . . . but you know what? I don't care', I worried how my team would perceive my 'weakness'. On board were 24 full-time ship's crew and 120 passengers. Well, as far as the crew were concerned we were passengers, but we considered ourselves expeditioners. We were professionals. We were trained. We had been chosen. We were going to live in Antarctica. For a year. And I was their leader. And I was very, very sick.

My close friend Graham Cook, the incoming Station Leader at Mawson Station, stuck his head in...