A Last Chance

By Kaz Daum

Part 1: The Test of Time

Icy winds have been blowing continuously for nine days. Jon walked slowly towards the drilling site, slapping his shoulders to keep warm. Normally he was clean shaven, but he was now thankful for having grown his beard. It has been eight hours since he last felt the warmth of the heated office, back at the base camp.
Now would be the time for a nice mug of steaming hot coffee, he thought.
Through the snow, which started as a blizzard at 5:00 a.m. but had now thankfully dwindled to a steady fall of snow with visibility reduced to ten meters, Jon heard the distant faint rumble of the Powertech drilling machine.
The drilling had started in the morning of the fourth of November, thirteen days ago. When they started, the weather forecast had been favorable with prospects of clear weather holding for at least the remainder of the month.
Four days into the drilling their luck had changed for the worse, the weather turned, without warning, into a snow blizzard within a matter of hours. It had taken Jon and his two-man crew the best part of two hours to try and secure all equipment. Because of the extreme windchill factor of -49C, they were not successful in locking down all equipment and machinery. This had resulted in the loss of one of the two snowmobiles.
The gusting wind had been so strong that it became impossible to properly secure the twenty-meter-high mast of the drilling machine. During the blizzard it had toppled forward and fallen onto the two snowmobiles that were their only means of transport in this barren stretch of snow- and ice-filled land known as Antarctica. In the past few days, Jon has managed to use parts from one of the snowmobiles to render the other serviceable.

How did this all start? he thinks back.
Its Jons fifty-first project with the South African company Eneco Holdings (Pty) Ltd., the company founded and run by his best friend and major shareholder Jason Menton. In his twenty-six years of service with the company, Jon had seen it grow from a small research company with limited resources to presently the largest oil and energy company in South Africa. They specialized in offshore oil drilling, but on occasion, they also extended their expertise to projects like this one.
At moments like these Jon wished that he had remained on his game farm in the Northern Province, back home in South Africa, because he did not have to be here. In all his years with the company, he had received stock options every Christmas. Looking through the financial figures of last year, presented to him and all other shareholders, he once again realized that he could have stopped working twelve years ago, when the company found oil in the Atlantic Ocean near Walvis Bay in Namibia. The Company had nearly gone bankrupt then and had poured its last reserves and $14 billion from bankers and other investors into this venture. Within four months of drilling, they found the biggest and most lucrative oil field of the southern hemisphere.
Jon became an instant multimillionaire, but was never able to give up working. He tried it for a short period of time and bought a game farm in the Northern Province of South Africa. After eight months he got bored and started to hunger for the thrills of his previous vocation. Leaving the game farm in the care of his sister and brother-in-law, he returned to his former employer and best friend.
Now he was stuck here in this unforgiving ice-covered landmass. He had not felt his fingers for the past six hours, but Jon realized, This is what I enjoy, here I feel at home.
Because of his profession, Jon spent up to 80 percent of the year away from home. This had led to a difficult divorce from his high school sweetheart, Adel. She could not adjust to the lonely days and nights, and soon after their marriage, she began to enjoy her life by having relationships with other men. Soon she found what she called the perfect husband and playmate. He was a young Itali

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Jul 28, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453530733

Kaz Daum

Lambertus Paul (Kaz) Daum was born in Zimbabwe on the seventeenth of June 1959. He enjoyed his education in South Africa and now resides in Alkmaar, Holland. Research for this book has been derived from intensive search on various Internet Web sites and other literature. He is married to Anneke and has two sons, Jon-paul and Jason, to whom this book has been dedicated.

Book preview

In loving memory of our dear friend Carla Vinken.

PART 1

The Test of Time

CHAPTER 1

18 November 2001

Icy winds have been blowing continuously for nine days. Jon walked slowly towards the drilling site, slapping his shoulders to keep warm. Normally he was clean shaven, but he was now thankful for having grown his beard. It has been eight hours since he last felt the warmth of the heated office back at the base camp.

‘Now would be the time for a nice mug of steaming hot coffee,’ he thought.

Through the snow, which started as a blizzard at 5:00 a.m. but had now thankfully dwindled to a steady fall of snow with visibility reduced to ten meters, Jon heard the distant faint rumble of the Powertech drilling machine.

The drilling had started on the morning of the fifth of November, thirteen days ago. When they started, the weather forecast had been favorable with prospects of clear weather holding for at least the remainder of the month. Four days into the drilling, their luck had changed for the worse, the weather turned, without warning, into a snow blizzard within a matter of hours. It had taken Jon and his two-man crew the best part of two hours to try to secure all equipment. Because of the extreme windchill factor of -49°C, they were not successful in locking down all equipment and machinery. This had resulted in the loss of one of the two snowmobiles.

The gusting wind had been so strong that it became impossible to properly secure the twenty-meter-high mast of the drilling machine. During the blizzard, it had toppled forward and fallen onto the two snowmobiles that were their only means of transport in this barren stretch of snow-and-ice-filled land known as Antarctica. In the past few days, Jon has managed to use parts from one snowmobile to render the other serviceable.

‘How did this all start?’ he thinks back.

It’s Jon’s fifty-first project with the South African company, Eneco Holdings (Pty) Ltd., the company founded and run by his best friend and major shareholder Jason Menton. In his twenty-six years of service with the company, Jon had seen it grow from a small research company with limited resources to presently the largest oil and energy company in South Africa. They specialize in offshore oil drilling, but on occasion, they also extended their expertise to projects like this one.

At moments like these, Jon wished that he had remained on his game farm in the Northern Province, back home in South Africa, because he did not have to be here in person. In all his years with the company, he had received stock options every Christmas. Looking through the financial figures of last year, presented to him and all other shareholders, he once again realized that he could have stopped working twelve years ago, when the company found oil in the Atlantic Ocean near Walvis Bay in Namibia. The Company had nearly gone bankrupt then and had poured its last reserves and $14 billion from bankers and other investors into this venture. Within four months of drilling, they found the biggest and most lucrative oil field of the southern hemisphere. Jon became an instant multimillionaire, but had never been able to give up working. He tried it for a short period and bought a game farm in the Northern Province of South Africa. After eight months, he got bored and started to hunger for the thrills of his previous vocation. Leaving the game farm in the care of his sister and brother-in-law, he returned to his former employer and best friend.

Now he was stuck here in this unforgiving ice-covered landmass. He had not felt his fingers for the past six hours, but Jon realized, ‘This is what I enjoy, here I feel at home.’ Because of his profession, Jon spent up to 80 percent of the year away from home. This had led to a difficult divorce from his high school sweetheart, Adel. She could not adjust to the lonely days and nights, and soon after their marriage, she began to enjoy her life by having relationships with other men. Soon she found what she called ‘the perfect husband and playmate.’ He was a young Italian man, six years her junior. The relationship lasted only until her finances, acquired from the divorce settlement, of $1.2 million, had been depleted. Her newly found lover left her with a debt of $50 thousand.

On the very rare occasions that Jon returned home, he was continually confronted with letters and demands from Adel’s lawyers. He had instructed his sister Vera to return all post received from Adel and her Attorneys unanswered. This worked for about a year and a half, but had culminated in a lawsuit, which was costing him $55 thousand a year in alimony payments. Although Jon’s greatest wish had always been to have a child, he was now thankful that he and Adel had no children, as this would only have made the divorce much more painful and complicated.

This all seemed so trivial to Jon, as he stood there in the freezing cold. In the background, he could still hear the drill humming as it drilled into the one-kilometer-thick ice. Surveys and tests had shown this to be a likely location for an oil field. Millions of years ago, this region of the Antarctic was subtropical and therefore was sure to have been covered with forests. Due to sedimentation, the flora of this region would have had time to turn into black coal and later into crude oil.

It had taken most of the Sunday to lift the mast of the drilling machine back and secure it in place, but they managed. Still, with all their misfortune, they counted themselves lucky. The mast had been designed to withstand great stresses and therefore had survived any serious damage during the fall. Now all they could do was to wait for the drill to cut through the layer of concrete hard ice so that they could start taking samples of the underlying soil. Because of the setback, they would have to spend an extra week in this barren land. This depressed Jon and his fellow companions slightly, but they were used to setbacks. In all his years with the Company, Jon could not remember one project that had gone as planned. ‘With all our modern technology we should be able to plan and execute a project without any unforeseen factors,’ thought Jon, ‘but as we have already had our share of problems on this project, the rest should be plain sailing.’ At that moment, Jon heard a strangely different humming sound coming from the drilling rig, which caused him to walk faster towards the rig. The snowfall was starting to subside, so he could see the rig from fifteen meters away. Everything looked OK, but the sound grew louder.

What’s happening? Jon shouted to Pete, who was operating the rig.

I don’t know! came the reply. The drill has been drilling at a steady rate of three meters per hour but has now stopped burrowing any deeper.

Take the drill up, maybe it has struck a rock that would have blunted the drill tip, Jon instructed.

It took about thirty minutes to retract the drill from a depth of seven hundred meters, so Jon had not taken this decision lightly.

Look! Pete shouted while pointing to the drill, the tip has been completely worn out.

Jon inspected the drill tip that had been cooled by the snow and ice but still felt warm to the touch. Let’s hook up a new drill tip and continue.

The two men looked at each other. It was clear that both men were puzzled.

What could have caused this? Pete asked while twirling his big sergeantlike moustache.

It’s my experience that some of these drill bits tend to expand and contract more than others under extreme temperature changes. This could be as a result of the heat from the drilling and the cooling of the ice, Jon suggested, but not quite convinced himself.

Within two hours, a new drill bit had been fitted and lowered into the drill shaft. It had taken most of their energy and both men started showing signs of fatigue.

Start her up, Jon instructed Pete.

The drill started slowly and soon went to its working rotation of 80 rpm. Almost instantly, the drill started shaking and the same sound emanated, which had occasioned Jon to retract the drill in the first place.

Shut it off and retract it again, Jon shouted, while making the cutoff sign by pulling his right hand across his throat.

As soon as the drill bit resurfaced, Jon could see that this bit was also destroyed.

What in the . . . , Pete started to say, but Jon interrupted him, and while he inspected the drill bit closer, he stated, I think we may have struck rock.

That’s not possible, Pete remarked. We still have at least three hundred meters to go before we reach Mother Earth.

I know, but can you explain it otherwise? he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

Jon knew that it could not be possible, for they had taken sonar readings that verified that the earth layer lay approximately one kilometer below the snow and ice.

Let’s take a new reading with the sonar, but do it above the drill hole, Jon suggested.

I’ll have to fetch the equipment from the base camp, Pete answered. Jon nodded and with his hand waved Pete off.

Jon contemplated every possible theory that could have caused this, while Pete mounted the now-functional remaining snowmobile and returned to their dwellings, a makeshift building constructed mainly of wood, corrugated iron, and durable canvas, about five hundred meters from the drilling site.

Paul, the third man on this expedition, sat behind the desk, which doubled as the radio stand. He heard the snowmobile approaching and stood up to open the door. The snowmobile came to a standstill and Pete dismounted.

You’re back early! Paul remarked, looking mildly surprised.

We need the sonar equipment, Pete replied. We seem to have struck rock.

Isn’t that too soon? Paul wanted to know, looking puzzled.

Yes, but we’ve blunted two drilling bits and we cannot explain why.

Do you want me to come back with you? Paul wanted to know.

No, I think you should stay by the radio in case Head Office tries to contact us.

Should I let Head Office know what is happening? Paul inquired.

No, I don’t think we should alarm them yet. At least not until we find out ourselves what has caused this.

For a millisecond Pete contemplated staying a while longer to enjoy a cup of hot coffee, but not wanting to leave Jon waiting too long, he decided against it.

Pete left Paul and the warmth of the base camp and returned to the drilling site with the sonar equipment.

I should have had a cup of coffee while I was at the base camp, Pete said to Jon, mildly regretting his decision.

The fact that you didn’t bring me a cup is far worse, Jon said with a wink and a smile. Let’s hook up the sonar and explain this mystery.

While Pete was gone fetching the sonar, Jon had prepared the site for the fitting of the electronic equipment. It took most of the remainder of the day to calibrate and set it up.

Ready? Jon asked.

Let’s do it, Pete replied with a broad smile.

Let’s first measure the depth of the hole, Jon suggested.

Jon switched on the sonar and immediately you could hear the high-pitched sound of the generator charging the battery cells.

Get ready for the first ping, Jon said.

As soon as the sonar received the return ping, it registered a depth of 1004.97 meters.

That’s impossible! Pete said, puzzled. According to the drill instruments, we have only drilled down to 698.2 meters.

Check the setting of the sonar, it’s most probably been set up to measure to the underlying earth, Jon commented.

I have rechecked the settings and they are correct, Pete replied, sounding irritated.

Jon fully understood Pete’s irritation because he also had an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Then we must be doing something wrong, Jon remarked. Let’s try it again.

Both men waited in silence as the second, third, and all other attempts yielded the same results.

Only one explanation, Jon said while staring at the printed readout of the sonar. Our first readings of the earth depth must be wrong. Let’s measure the earth depth again.

Our first readings cannot be wrong, Pete explained. The drilling rig clearly shows that we have only reached a depth of 698 meters.

Let’s try it anyway, Jon suggested. It’s so cold out here, we may have overlooked something with our half-frozen brains.

Pete recalibrated the sonar, and after the first sounding, he said, See the readings are the same as before, we’re not making any mistakes.

I don’t understand this. What is going on? Jon asked while walking over to the generator to switch it off. This is impossible, in all my years I’ve never encountered anything remotely similar.

What are we to do now? Pete wanted to know.

Let’s secure all the equipment and return to base camp. There we can thaw ourselves out and look at the problem with a new perspective.

The smell of fresh coffee stirred a welcome feeling in both Jon and Pete. It had been a while since Jon had been able to warm himself. His feet and fingertips had a painful but pleasant feeling as they started to warm and life slowly returned to them.

‘Pain is an enemy, but it sure is welcome when you know that it relieves the cold from a near-frozen body,’ Jon thought.

Tell me, asked Paul, are you sure the sonar is functioning properly?

What do you take us for, Fools? Pete asked with a tone of irritation in his voice.

No, but in these extreme conditions it’s easy to make a mistake.

Well, we’ve checked and rechecked all readings and equipment and everything works as it should, Pete explained.

Jon started to do a little shuffle in front of the turbine gas heater. He was getting feeling back in his body and reached for the steaming hot coffee.

Sipping the coffee slowly, Jon remarked, It’s clear that we’re missing something. What could be causing these readings? Not expecting an answer, Jon continued, It’s getting too cold now to go back out there, but I am sure when we wake tomorrow, we’ll realize our mistake and feel like total monkeys. I, for one, am going to finish my coffee, have a bite to eat, and climb into my nice warm cot for some shut-eye.

Jon kept tossing and turning, his thoughts keeping him from sleep. He knew that they were not making any mistakes and that something strange and mysterious lay ahead. He could not shake the eerie feeling that they were on the verge of a major discovery. This gnawing feeling ensured an uneasy night’s rest.

19 November 2001

After a troublesome night, both Pete and Paul reappeared in the small makeshift office and found Jon behind the desk talking on the radio with Head Office. The crackling sound filled the room and a strong smell of freshly made coffee gave a homely and welcome feeling. Outside the temperature had risen to a chilly -18°C. Suddenly the booming voice of Jason filled the room. Jason, president and founder of Eneco Holdings, normally always accompanied Jon on all his projects for the first week, but a legal action against him and the company had him tied up in paperwork and legal red tape. Since his first big oil strike, Jason had been made painfully aware of radical left-wing groups that always seemed intent on destroying him or his company. They always managed to rally enough environmental activists to cause a delay, and even prohibit some projects. His last project had cost him $13 million because an activist claimed to prove that the project would destroy the natural surroundings of a rare type of field mouse that lived only in that particular area and could not exist anywhere else on the face of the planet. The fact that this particular project would have generated enough work and employment for over fourteen thousand men and women and that, after completion, it would have generated enough fuel and energy to support a city the size of New York, for at least a hundred years at half the cost that it now costs, never seemed to sway the judge from his ruling.

In all their years together, Jason had learned to respect and listen to Jon, although they often disagreed on certain procedures, which often led to vehement shouting matches. These arguments usually ended with Jason screaming, I’m the boss, it’s my bloody money and we’ll do it my goddamn way or I’ll fire the fringing lot of you! Jon learned that Jason usually came back within the hour to apologize and assure Jon that he was still employed, and that the task at hand should be done according to Jon’s wisdom and discretion. This created such a strong bond between the two men, which most women admired yet envied. Rumor had it that Jason has never married because it may put their friendship at risk, and Jason put more value on friendship than on marriage.

What’s happening out there? came Jason’s thundering, booming voice over the crackling radio. Are you a lot of incompetents that can’t even drill a simple hole in a block of ice? I wonder what I’m paying you all that money for.

Jon let him rage on and did not respond until a full minute of silence had passed.

Are you done shouting, Boss? Jon asked in a cool voice, touched with velvet.

Yes! Jason barked back.

Well, Jon started explaining, it seems that we either have cheap faulty equipment or that the drilling bits you sent us are made from a substance we call shit.

What do you mean cheap and shitty equipment, they are top of the range, and you know that, Jon, Jason responded, with irritation clearly sounding in his voice.

Yes I do, Jason, but we have encountered something that we can’t explain. The sonar readings indicate that we’ve reached a depth of approximately 1005 meters, but the drilling has only gone down to a depth of 698 meters. We’ve also completely destroyed two drill bits by trying to go deeper.

Do you know what a drill bit costs? Jason thundered back. The present lawsuit I’m involved in is going to cost me a bundle, and now you’re telling me that this project is going to come in well over budget?

Jason, listen to me. It is not the money you should be worried about! We have a situation here that is beyond any reasonable explanation. If you have any suggestions on how we should proceed, I need to hear them.

Sorry, Jon, but the lawyers are driving me totally crazy. They now want to declare the whole area above the Thabazimbi region a national park and it is going to cost me a pretty fortune. You are right though, I should not let that interfere with this project. Please explain again what the problem is exactly.

It started yesterday, two drill bits were destroyed while we tried to go deeper than the present 700 meters. Furthermore, we are getting some pretty weird and contradictory readings from the drilling rig and sonar. To proceed, I would like to use the extra enforced diamond tip drill bit to continue drilling.

Jesus, Jon, that drill bit costs forty-five thousand dollars and you’re telling me that you want to use it to drill through ice!

I don’t see any other solution at this moment. I suspect that we have come across a rock protruding into the drilling hole. Beyond this hole, there must be a cavity. That’s presently the only conclusion I can draw to explain the contradicting readings we’ve been getting.

A short silence fell in the room. Jason, known for his snap decisions, took less than ten seconds to respond.

Well, OK, Jon, if that’s your judgement, then I’ll abide by it. Let me know as soon as you find something.

Will do, Jason, and oh, success with the lawyers, I’ll be thinking of you while I’m lying in the shade on this sunny beach here in paradise. Jon could not resist this quick sarcastic comment before signing off.

Not waiting for a response, Jon flicked the on/off switch and the radio went silent.

All three men stared silently at each other before Pete broke the silence. He’s not happy, is he?

No, replied Paul, stroking his beard thoughtfully, I think he had a mild heart attack when you told him you wanted to use the diamond tip drill bit.

Well, Jason has always been a hothead, Jon responded, shaking his head and pouting his lips. Although he is my best friend, I sometimes would like to shit in his briefcase and leave my resignation note behind in it, but let’s face it, when push comes to shove, you can count on Jason.

An hour later, Jon and Pete started to attach the diamond drill bit to the drilling rig. This particular task takes longer than fitting a normal drill bit because the diamond drill bit is liquid cooled. This presents a unique problem in icy conditions. The liquid has to be superheated and pumped up again before it has a chance of freezing.

As soon as the work was done, they proceeded with preparations to begin drilling again. The drill bit was lowered into the existing hole. At 698 meters, the drill bit came to a stop.

We have reached the previous depth, Pete confirmed, slowly nodding his head.

Good, let’s start drilling, Jon ordered. First, go at 15 rpm with a down pressure of a one-fourth ton.

It’s turning, Pete shouted over the noise made by the drill.

Turn the rpm’s up slowly and gently exert more down pressure, Jon shouted back over the roar.

As the drill started to increase speed, the humming of the drill turned into an ear-deafening roar. The complete drilling rig started to vibrate.

Turn the damn thing off! shouted Jon. Something’s not right!

Before Pete could react, the complete drilling mast started to rock and shake violently. One of the pylon cables, used to stabilize the rig, snapped like a twig and smashed through the cockpit windscreen, hitting Pete a glancing blow in the face and knocking him unconscious. In a flash, Jon raced up the outer shell of the rig and hit the emergency shutoff with his left hand while, simultaneously, catching Pete with his right arm as he slowly started to tumble forward through the broken windscreen, into the now-out-of-control spinning drill shaft. It seemed to Jon that it took hours for the drill shaft to stop turning. When it did eventually stop, he picked Pete up in a firefighter’s grip, carried him down from the rig, and laid him in the snow. Instantly the snow turned red from the injury to his face and Pete’s nose. Pete was still unconscious when Jon ran to the snowmobile to recover the first aid box. By the time he returned, Pete was sitting up holding his nose with one hand and trying to prop himself up with the other.

Man, that was a nasty hit, Pete said. If I had known it would get mad at me, I would have worn my suit of armor.

Glad to see that you can joke about it, Jon replied. I thought you were a goner, for sure.

It takes more than a drilling rig or broken nose to stop me. Pete tried to force a smile.

Realizing that Jon had saved his life, Pete reached out for Jon’s hand. Thanks, he said.

I only did what anybody would have done, Jon acknowledged with a smile and a wink.

Although Pete’s nose now looked like a buzzard’s beak, which only his parents could be proud of, he started to assemble the tools they would need to retrieve the diamond drill bit.

It took four hours to reassemble the broken pylon cable and retrieve the drill bit.

What the hell! exclaimed Pete. The whole bloody thing has disintegrated. How is that possible?

There’s something strange down there, Jon responded. Let’s get back to base camp and call Jason.

By the time they returned to base camp, Pete’s eyes where black and blue and nearly swollen shut. Although the office was furnished with only the essentials, Pete managed to walk into every piece of furniture in the office before he collapsed exhausted on his cot.

I don’t nearly get paid enough. Pete kept mumbling to himself while Jon explained to Paul what had happened. While Paul set about tending to Pete’s injuries, Jon proceeded to call Jason on the radio. Jason was stuck in court, but Head Office assured Jon that they would pass the message on to Jason.

20 November 2001

Around five in the morning, Jon was rudely awakened by the sound of Jason’s voice. ‘The weather must have cleared,’ thought Jon, still half-asleep, for there was no static in the voice and the radio was silent. Suddenly Jon felt a hand shaking him violently and he realized that the voice was not coming from the radio but from within the room.

Wake up, you lazy bastard, Jason’s voice sounded strong but friendly. I’ve made a pot of strong coffee and it’s getting cold.

What are you doing here, Jason? Jon asked, surprised, while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

First, you destroy a forty-five-thousand-dollar diamond drill bit, and then I hear that you also manhandled Pete’s face. But seriously, it sounded urgent and the lawyers are driving me crazy. I’m not due back in court till next Monday and that’s six days from now.

Jon and Jason spent the morning going over the data from the drilling rig and sonar equipment. Both came to the same conclusion: something is amiss. There is no substance on earth that is hard enough to destroy a diamond tip drill bit within seconds. There has to be another explanation. Was the drill bit defective? No, this is not possible, because they test and retest all machinery and parts rigorously at their own testing facilities before shipping anything to the field. Even stranger is the fact, that the ½-meter diameter hole measures a depth of 1005 meters with the sonar, but the drill only goes down to 698 meters.

There has to be an explanation, Jason remarked. I have never encountered anything like this before.

It seems that we have stumbled on an enigma, Jon said. The only explanation is that we have found a substance harder and tougher than presently known to man.

That may be so, Jason replied, but that still does not explain the different readings we have been getting.

I have heard of a new development that can measure depth. It works with a laser beam.

Well, Jon, Jason reacted, surprised, that has been around for some time now.

Yes I know, Jason, but this device can also measure density at great distance or depth.

Jason pondered this new information before asking, Do you think we could use it here?

I don’t see why not, Jon nodded. The only other solution is to excavate a shaft down to the bottom, and as you know, that’s going to cost megabucks.

It’s my megabucks we’re talking about, and besides, if it is a new substance, think of the possibilities. This could be the find of the century, no, the find of all finds. I want whatever is down there.

Do you mean to tell me that we are to excavate a shaft? Jon asked.

Jason’s decision did not surprise Jon, as he knew his friend’s vigorous love for adventure and the unknown.

Yup, replied Jason firmly, "but first we will have to return to South Africa to assemble a team.

CHAPTER 2

14 January 2002

Back in South Africa, Jon first returned to his farm for a week, to attend to matters that required his personal attention, before returning to the Head Office in Johannesburg.

Between the organizing of an excavation expedition and the purchasing of all the equipment, it had taken Jon nearly two months to complete his team. Planning an expedition of this magnitude had taken longer than Jon or Jason would have liked. Although Jon truly learned to hate the cold and ice on his last expedition, he now could not wait to return. However, time was running out, and if they did not break ice by the first of February, the whole operation would be in jeopardy because of the oncoming winter, which starts on the twenty-first of March and lasts until twenty-third of September. In this period there is little or no daylight and the temperature could drop to well below -60°C, and no man could survive these conditions for long. Everything had to be planned and prepared very carefully. On the twenty-eighth of January the team and equipment was finally ready for shipment. The essential equipment for the base camp had been flown to Antarctica earlier in the month. Confirmation had just reached Jon that the camp had been built and was ready for occupation.

29 January 2002

Jon looked out of the helicopter’s window and could only see the vast outstretch of the Antarctic ice-covered landscape. This depressed him somewhat.

‘What am I doing back in this godforsaken place?’ he thought to himself.

Yet something stirred inside of him. He knew deep down that something exciting was about to happen. Jon did not realize that in the weeks to follow, events would leave an everlasting impression on him. The radical changes would change him and his views forever.

12 February 2002

The first two weeks were spent on placing and assembling the necessary machinery. This took far longer than anyone had anticipated. They were behind schedule and the weather was not in their favor. With regular snow blizzards and the occasional frostbite-related injury, time was starting to press. They had to start digging this week or they would have to abandon the whole expedition and return after the winter. This was not a prospect Jon was looking forward to.

It was now almost two weeks past their scheduled dateline, but all was ready at last and they could commence digging. With all the men and machinery performing their tasks, all Jon could do was supervise and monitor the proceedings. Every day he would call Jason at 1900 hours to give a detailed report of the day’s proceedings. Jason showed signs of irritation whenever Jon had no news; however, the digging improved every day. As the days progressed, the report to Jason was no different from the day before.

We are now down to 324 meters and all’s well, Jon would report back to Jason.

Only down to 324 meters, Jason would bark back, that’s only 16 meters deeper than yesterday.

Jason, you yourself clearly know that this is not a tropical land, where man can work in flimsy clothing. These men are hardened, but even they have their limitations. Sometimes it takes hours to defrost a generator that has broken down, or a shovel gets stuck in an ice crack and needs to be manhandled before we can continue.

I know, I know, but I feel like a small child on Christmas Eve. I just know that whatever we find will be the most exciting find of our lives. Mark my words, Jon, this is bigger than all of us.

What do you mean? Jon asked.

It’s hard to explain, but ever since I was down there the first time, I have had the feeling that part of my heritage is down there. I know it sounds crazy, but I cannot shake that feeling.

Don’t be silly, Jon remarked. If you ask me, I think that whatever we find will not surprise us, but we will discover a simple and logical explanation for this. Won’t we look like a pair of idiots when we find an ordinary solution?

Like a pair of bankrupt idiots you mean, this project is costing me a packet, Jason barked back.

Jon shared the same feelings that Jason was describing, but he could not bring himself to join in Jason’s enthusiasm. He would not let his life be controlled by illusions. This was the single biggest difference between Jason and Jon. Whenever a stranger was introduced to the two, the assumption was often made that they were brothers. Although Jason is half a head taller than Jon is, they both had the same blond wavy hair and strong jawline. Both men had fit, athletically trained bodies, and as if nature had played a trick on their mothers, they both had the same blue eyes, with the exception of the right eye, which had a hint of green.

17 February 2002

Gradually the hole became deeper each day. It was a painstaking task, but on the afternoon of the seventeenth of February, the supervisor announced to Jon that they had now reached a total depth of 695 meters. Although the hole had a diameter of 100 meters at the top, it funnelled down to a diameter of 10 meters at the bottom. Four men could work in this man-made cavity. All drilling and digging equipment was brought to the top and immediately work started on building the lift system that would haul the men and equipment deep down into the 700-meter-deep shaft.

A special mining lift was flown in from South Africa to accomplish this. It had taken all of Jason’s resources to bribe and rent the equipment. The lift is especially designed for the purpose of retrieving trapped miners and equipment in case of a mining accident. As it is specialized equipment, it stands to reason that mining companies are extremely adverse in parting with this vital piece of equipment, in case of an eventual disaster. Jason had, however, managed to bribe an official of a mining company to let him rent the lift for a period of one week; therefore it was essential to complete their task within this week. Before beginning with excavating the last three meters of ice, Jon went down with the supervisor to measure the depth. Instead of using the sonar, Jon inserted a 5-meter prodding rod into the existing drill hole.

Approximately three meters, Jon called out to the supervisor. Try it now with the sonar.

Strange, the supervisor remarked, according to the sonar, the depth of the hole is approximately 310 meters, yet if we measure the existing drill hole with the prodding rod, it’s only about 3 meters deep. I have seen some pretty strange things in my life, but this I do not comprehend.

Only one way to find out, Jon instructed, let’s start digging.

After returning to the surface, the supervisor went down again with two workers. As each of them set about their tasks, Jon started the compressor. The hole filled with the sound of the compressor starting up, and slowly the hissing of escaping air from the jackhammers joined the creaking of the ice. As soon as the compressor tank was up to pressure, a sudden burst of noise filled the chamber as the jackhammers started up. Jon had forgotten to put on his ear protectors and his head was now filled with a ringing that would have made the hunchback of Notre Dame proud. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he put on the ear protectors. Meanwhile the supervisor was trying to say something to him. Jon indicated with his hands that he could not understand him, while his head was filled with the sound of jingle bells, played to the tune of Beethoven’s fifth symphony. Jon moved closer to the supervisor. Still the supervisor seemed to be talking, but all Jon could see was a man imitating a mime.

What? Jon shouted at the man as he lifted his ear protectors from his left ear.

Suddenly, the supervisor stopped talking and just stood there, looking at the workers.

"Oh well, it can’t be important so it’ll have to wait,’ Jon thought to himself.

The ice, although harder here than at the top, gave way surprisingly quickly under the force of the jackhammers. It had taken the two workers less than three hours to break through the ice. All that remained now was to remove the broken ice blocks left by the workers, but this would have to wait until tomorrow, as it was now getting too dark and cold to continue. To prevent the pit from icing up again, they covered the hole made by the men with canvas and left a gas turbo heater burning. To Jon’s surprise, the heater generated enough heat to slowly melt the ice in the new hole. By the time they were ready to return to the top, a puddle of water had already started to form.

By the way, Jon asked the supervisor, what were you trying to tell me?

To put on your ear protectors, replied the supervisor.

‘Smart alec,’ Jon thought, shrugging his shoulders.

Back at the camp Jon wasted no time in calling Jason on the radio.

He’s on his way to you and should arrive within the hour, was the static-filled message over the two-way radio.

‘He’s like a little boy in a candy store,’ Jon thought, but he could not blame Jason for his excitement because he was feeling just as electrified.

About forty-five minutes later, Jason came bursting through the door into the mess hall, where Jon was fussing over a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup.

Bring me up to speed! he demanded, disregarding any greeting formalities.

Relax, Jon replied. We have all night to review our findings. Sit down, have a bowl of soup, and tell me about the lawyers.

You want to chitchat about bloody lawyers, while I’m dying of curiosity. Are you completely mad? Jason shouted as his face slowly turned as red as a tomato.

Just kidding. Jon shrugged his shoulders, a blank look on his face that made the other men in the mess hall burst into laughter.

That’s right, laugh at my bloody expense. I should fire the blooming lot of you.

Nobody felt threatened by Jason’s remark, for they all knew about the close relationship between Jon and Jason, and that this was considered normal behavior between these two men.

As Jon brought Jason up to date about the events of the past few days, Jason listened without interruption. This was unusual, because Jason had the tendency to continually interrupt for fear of having missed some vital small detail. Jon realized during his report that this project meant