From the Far North to the Far South

"Our food lies ahead and death stalks us from behind." Ernest Shackleton, The Heart of the Antarctic

Steve Edwards arrived home to Kerikeri in December last year to what he thought was unbearable heat. All he wanted was to find a commercial fridge big enough to crawl inside it and read a book. He had spent the past 16 months in the Antarctic, through the summer months when the temperatures can vary between -10 to a balmy 4 degrees and in winter when the gauges can dip to -35.

He had worked on the mechanical services of the Kauri Cliffs' construction, spent three years helping build Ngawha Prison and two years doing the same at Waikato's Spring Hill Prison. In 2010 he applied to be building service supervisor with the Australian Antarctic Division and after a lengthy and stringent selection process, got the job. He was also offered a post with Antarctica New Zealand but the Aussies were paying about twice as much so he went for the more generous option.

Before this, the nearest the Far North man had been to snow was on a trip to the car park at Mt Ruapehu . He flew to Hobart for six weeks' training on surviving the conditions, leadership, safety and fire team training then boarded the Aurora Australis ice-breaker for the two week journey south to Davis Station on the western side of Antarctica.

"First impressions were how beautiful it is, the colours, the wild life, the cleanliness. Experienced people say you don't really get the feel of the place unless you are there and it's true."

Davis Station has sleeping, living and medical quarters and houses around 100 people in summer and 21 who winter over. It might sound cold but, in fact, Steve brought five jerseys with him and didn't wear them in summer because it's very dry. Humidity hovers around 9 per cent. His best memories are of the auroras that glow green 'like a cloud in the sky' and the wild life.

"It's hard to keep the elephant seals out of the workshop, they know how to open the door. One early morning at about 2 o'clock when it was still light I was transferring water from the ship stationed off the sea ice and there were a couple of Emperor penguins by my truck. It was an amazing sight."

All the training didn't stop him breaking his leg when he slipped on ice about 10 metres from home. The option to be flown out or to catch a ship back didn't exist so the Davis Base medical team had to cope. It consisted of one doctor, one diesel mechanic, an electrician, a carpenter and a weather guy. Apart from the doctor, the only training the others had in medical procedure was for a week in Hobart.

"I was put under twice to fix my leg. If you were back home you'd have a couple of surgeons, anaesthetists and nurses. But here? The carpenter!

"I spent two months with my leg in plaster, sitting in the living quarters doing my paper work and overlooking what they call Iceberg Alley. When I got back the orthopaedic surgeon in Hobart said the medical team did a brilliant job."

It was when he was snow-bound, unable to get off the ice, that he got the news his 33-year-old son had died. It is only in the past few weeks that Mr Edwards has been able to be attend the young man's memorial service - which surely personifies the opening sentence in Apsley Cherry-Garrad's book 'The Worst Journey Of The World' ... "at once the cleanest and most isolated way of having a bad time ..."

But Steve Edwards is utterly sanguine about another tour of Antarctic duty and his reapplication has already gone in. He can't wait to escape the oppressive heat of the north.

- Sandy Myhre