The Top of the Bottom of the World!: A Doctor's Journey to the Highest Point of the South Pole

By Mao Yilei

Written by the expedition doctor, this is the authors diary from the historic Chinese Antarctic expedition to build Kunlun Station in the middle of the immense Antarctic ice sheet. The expedition team not only had to ascend over four thousand meters at temperatures of sixty Fahrenheit below zero while fighting through snowstorms, they also had to overcome all sorts of difficulties, such as constantly changing plans, impossible loads, discontented construction workers, and low pay. Were they taking crazy risks? Was the expedition a foolish endeavor? The authors account is a vivid, truthful description of this great expedition undertaken by a team of moving individuals who arent without their flaws and crude, or even sometimes rule-breaking, behavior. It is a story worth reading.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483673905

Mao Yilei

Mao Yilei was born in Ningbo, China, in March 1964. After having his residency training in Australia, he earned his PhD of surgery at the medical school of Lund University in Sweden and then completed his postdoctoral training at Harvard University. He is currently a surgeon at of the Chinese Academy of Medical Sciences. A frequent traveler and adventurer, Dr. Mao served as the team doctor on the Inland Detachment of the 25th China National Antarctic Research Expedition. He helped build Kunlun Station on Dome A, the highest point in Antarctica, and recorded every detail of his Antarctic adventures on a voice recorder pen.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Mao Yilei. 138721-LI11

ISBN: EBook 978-1-4836-7390-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 09/29/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

First Foreword

Second Foreword

People Involved

Go South, Go South, Go Farther South!

En Route To The World Of Snow And Ice

Boarding The Snow Dragon: The South Pole Dream Begins Here

Tormented In The Westerlies

Into The Antarctic Circle

Preparing For Battle At Zhongshan Station

Zhongshan Station, China’s Foothold In The Snow

Hemmed In By Snow

A Narrow Escape Beneath The Ice

Summer Snowstorms Wreak Havoc

The Advance Team Is Formed

A First Taste Of The Great Antarctic Ice Sheet

Desperation In The Soft Snow

Swallowed By A Snowstorm

Endless Preparations

The Grueling Traverse

A Land Utterly Hostile To Life

Pressing On With Impossible Loads

A Mad Dash Over The Ravenous Crevasses

New Year’s Under The Midnight Sun

The Roughest Ride Of My Life And Complete Disorientation

The Final Push To The Summit

Kunlun Station: An Antarctic Miracle

Staking A Claim On The Ice Sheet

The Birth Of Kunlun Station

Practicing Medicine On The Ice Sheet

The New Year’s Bell Tolls At The End Of The World

An Unsolved Mystery And Strange Happenings In Camp

An Anxious Wait

The Road Home: A Race Against The Cold

A Mad Dash Over The Ice Sheet

Captain Li Tricks The Ice Sheet

Summer Fades As Bad Weather Closes In

Triumph! We Are The Creators Of History

The Journey Comes To A Tumultuous End

A Brush With Death In Sight Of Home

Good Times At Zhongshan Station

Acknowledgments

This book would not have been possible without the generous help of a great number of people. Above all, I would like to thank my wife Lou Xiaofen, daughter Mao Rongzhi, and mother Yue Yun, whose continual support kept me going. Special thanks go to Li Shu who oversaw the completion of the English translation and the book publication from start to finish. I would also like to thank Sheng Faqiang and Wei Li for financial support of the book. Thanks go to Xia Limin and Xu Jin, for some of the beautiful photographs. And finally I would like to thank my English translator Jeffrey Keller.

First Foreword

I know Mao Yilei well, and we’re from the same hometown. After studying abroad in Europe and America, I came to be his supervisor and have watched him flourish in his profession. He is a model physician.

As he has grown over the years, the Dr. Mao I have come to know has developed the meticulous and cautious nature of a traditional surgeon, all while being an insightful young man. He is highly capable and has made a name for himself in his own field, to which both his colleagues and patients will attest. This is quite a feat itself.

But I have also felt—and others have mentioned this to me several times—that Mao Yilei is a person who likes to be challenged. He has been on several trips that went beyond anything I would do, such as driving himself to Tibet twice, visiting the Mount Everest Base Camp, going to see the lions on the Maasai Mara grasslands in Africa, rowing a boat down the Nile River, and jogging along the Aegean Sea and Bosporus Strait, just to name a few. I have also heard that he has suffered through many hardships during his travels and sometimes has been in quite frightful situations. But he never tires of it. Perhaps he feels this is another challenge and stimulation in life and that he can see more of the world in this way. Perhaps the complete Mao Yilei only comes into view when we see all of these different sides at once. I do not object to this, as long as it does not affect his work.

One day, Dr. Mao came to me and said, Mr. Zhong, I’m going to the Antarctic ice sheet as a team doctor for an Antarctic expedition. I was quite taken aback. Other young surgeons here at Peking Union had participated in Antarctic expeditions and served as team doctors before, but to go out onto the ice sheet in the Antarctic interior where his life might be in danger? This plan of Mao Yilei’s was a little crazy.

You’re abandoning your profession? I blurted out.

Mr. Zhong, please don’t worry, I’ll only be gone four months.

A few days later, Mao Yilei quietly disappeared. All anyone knew was that he had gone off to Antarctica. It was as if he had fallen into an information black hole, and we heard not a word from him.

A little more than four months later, Mao Yilei burst into my room, giving me quite a start. Before me stood a man with a blackened face punctuated by two white eyes—perhaps the result of wearing sunglasses. His face was somewhat swollen and rougher than most people’s, as if he had been battered nonstop by snowstorms. His hair puffed out in a frazzled tuft—the bright round countenance of just a few months ago was gone. The next day, Dr. Mao quietly went back to work as if nothing at all had happened. If it weren’t for those two white circles around his eyes, everyone would have forgotten that he had just returned from Antarctica.

Six months later, Dr. Mao handed me his journal from the trip for criticism and correction. Now I had the opportunity to carefully read about his experiences in Antarctica, and I was curious what he had to say. To tell the truth, I was deeply moved and shaken.

He had experienced so much during those four months of silence.

Mao Yilei was a member of the 25th China National Antarctic Research Expedition (CHINARE) and also a member of the Inland Detachment. As the team doctor, he and his team surmounted countless difficulties and built Kunlun Station on Dome A (Dome Argus), the highest point on the Antarctic ice sheet. He completed his duties as a doctor and medical researcher under extremely difficult conditions. He drove a tractor for the entire journey over the ice sheet and willingly lent a hand when needed, sometimes acting as cook, mechanic, or photographer. Mao Yilei recorded everything that happened for more than 130 days on a voice recording pen and then faithfully put the events onto paper. From his diaries, I gained an appreciation of the vastness of the snowfields, the solemn silence of the icebergs, the carefree lives of the seals, and the laziness of the penguins. I sighed at the hardship of working in such an extreme environment and was sometimes even filled with a cruel feeling of despair and helplessness. I held my breath when life and death hung in the balance, and other times I shared the joy, sadness, anger, and dashed hopes of the characters in the story. When I read about the completion of Kunlun Station on Dome A, I could not help but shout out, Look what the great Chinese people are capable of!

Mao Yilei wrote in his journal that human genes are engraved with an insatiable thirst for exploration and achievement, and I deeply identified with this. Mankind goes to nature to understand it and in the process creates a new natural history—isn’t this the result of such a thirst? Sometimes our hard work appears insignificant and laughable when faced with the great forces of nature, but every step toward the world of the unknown has pioneering significance and is an expression of the wild nature present in our blood.

Mao Yilei has long since returned from Antarctica and returned to normal work. On the surface he has not changed, as if he never went to the Antarctic ice sheet. But when someone comes face-to-face with death and has experiences beyond the reach of ordinary life, his inner core—or maybe his genes—is engraved with a unique stamp. I do not know what that stamp is, and only time will tell.

It seems that a brief detour from one’s profession certainly has an effect.

I recommend that everyone read this extraordinary account, and perhaps it will have an effect on us as well.

Zhong Shouxian

Peking Union Medical College Hospital Department of Surgery

March 2010, Beijige Santiao, Beijing

Second Foreword

As the expedition leader and chief scientist of the 25th CHINARE, I knew very well that building Kunlun Station on Antarctica’s Dome A was our most important mission. It was also a mission that would directly decide the success or failure of this expedition. Building a research station on the highest point of the Antarctic Continent has great scientific and political significance for China and also represents a giant step forward for human exploration in extreme environments. This worthy and immense task fell on the shoulders of the twenty-eight members of the Inland Detachment.

I was therefore most concerned about selecting the right members to serve on the detachment. Forming a coherent team from a handful of complete strangers with strong personalities is nearly an impossible task, and it is a huge undertaking. I had mixed feelings when I first met Dr. Mao Yilei, whom I had selected to serve as the Inland Detachment doctor. To tell the truth, I had some doubts, worries, and even feelings of disappointment about the doctor I had chosen. Mao Yilei was already well into middle age and was a senior surgeon at Peking Union Medical College. Even though he had earned outstanding marks in his online registration, the training sessions, and the selection process, I felt that an Inland Detachment doctor should at least have the following qualities: possess a certain level of professional medical knowledge, be young and able-bodied, and have a good psychological character. Perhaps more importantly, he should unquestioningly obey orders when needed. Dr. Mao’s professional character is impeccable. I was worried that his age and qualifications may become an impediment to unquestioningly obeying orders. I had some concerns before the expedition got started.

In a little more than two months, the Inland Detachment had to carry a huge load of construction materials and fuel across the vast snow plains to the top of the Antarctic Continent in extremely hostile conditions. Then they had to complete construction of Kunlun Station as quickly as possible. To complete the task, they would need to avoid any mishaps in terms of weather, geography, and team personnel. Overlooking any detail could endanger the entire mission.

I saw Mao Yilei once again when I stood at Zhongshan Station and witnessed the triumphant return of the Inland Detachment after successfully building Kunlun Station. Dr. Mao’s performance on the ice sheet had become the stuff of legend. I had kept hearing reports about his performance, and this expedition proved that nearly everyone agreed that Dr. Mao really was great!

The Inland Detachment captain and other team members told me that Mao Yilei played an extremely important core role in this mission. As a member of the advance team, he helped that team in its solitary mission of dropping off fuel. Dr. Mao drove his own tractor the entire way out to Dome A, all while carrying a huge load of supplies and fuel. He immediately treated team members who were having physical difficulties in the hostile environment and prevented any of the team members from having to drop out for health reasons. While on the Antarctic ice sheet, Dr. Mao also gathered data for two medical research projects and provided firsthand information about the physiological changes of the human body in extreme environments. He actively volunteered to help with other tasks, like cooking, mechanical, and construction work. I can say that on this mission, Mao Yilei did not just follow orders, but he also actively took it upon himself to help out with other jobs to release some of the stress placed on the rest of the team. Inland Detachment Captain Li once said, Mao Yilei is one of the lead players on the Inland Detachment.

I admit that his performance exceeded my expectations.

After returning from harsh Antarctica to real life, I kept in regular contact with Dr. Mao Yilei. Even though we are not friends who formed a life-and-death bond, we are still close. Until Mao Yilei gave me his Antarctic diary, I didn’t know that he had actually kept such detailed records of everything that had transpired on the Inland Detachment. Other Antarctic expedition members have also written diaries, but very few have written such truthful and vivid depictions of every detail of Antarctic life. This diary is not a scientific report, but its comprehensive and truthful nature may make it an important reference for future inland Antarctic expeditions.

I read Mao Yilei’s Antarctic diary in one sitting, and I thought back fondly on the memories that I could still see clearly just as he described them. I am very pleased to be able to write a foreword for this book, even though some of the views it presents do not represent or exactly conform to the organizational views of CHINARE. In that kind of extremely harsh environment, everyone will have emotionally informed opinions. Even though I cannot endorse some of the views it contains, I can confirm the truth of the objective facts on which they are based. While reading these facts, readers can experience the harsh living conditions of Antarctica and form their own views and opinions. A thousand people see a thousand Hamlets—to each his own.

Finally, I want to thank the editor for preserving these feelings and writings in their original form so that readers can understand Antarctica through them.

Yang Huigen

Director of the Polar Research Institute of China

Pudong, Shanghai, March 2010

People Involved

Mao Yilei: The author, a surgeon at Peking Union Medical College. Dr. Mao served as the team doctor for the 25th China National Antarctic Research Expedition (CHINARE) Inland Detachment and personally participated in building Kunlun Station on Dome A. He recorded every detail of his life in Antarctica on a voice recorder pen.

01_MaoY.tif

Li Yuansheng (Captain Li): From Inner Mongolia, scientist at the Polar Research Institute of China; professor, captain of the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He has years of Antarctic experience and has been called the quintessential Inland Detachment captain. He thrives under hardship and has an iron will. He led the team through life and death and in successfully building Kunlun Station.

02_LiY.tif

Xia Limin (Deputy Xia): From Shandong, general office director of the State Antarctic Office; party branch secretary and deputy captain of the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He was a tractor driver and was absolutely essential in resolving the team’s logistical challenges. He also served as a special photographer for the Chinese Arctic and Antarctic Administration, taking many invaluable photos. Some of the photos that appear in this book are his.

03_XiaL.tif

Li Shiming (Boss Li): From Shanghai, deputy general manager from the Baosteel Metal Corporation; deputy captain of the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment, nicknamed Boss. He led the Baosteel construction team in building Kunlun Station on Dome A as quickly as possible. He has an open and easygoing personality, thoroughly enjoys life, and created a light, humorous mood on the Inland Detachment.

04_LiS.tif

Cui Penghui (Mechanic Cui): Originally from Liaoning, longtime resident of Qinghai, business manager of the Qinghai Jieshen Equipment Manufacturing Group Branch Factory; mechanical engineer and chief mechanic of the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He is very experienced and is the only person in the world to have been to Dome A four times. Mechanic Cui played a key role in travelling across the ice sheet and could be called the soul of the team.

05_CuiP.tif

Zhang Shengkai (Kai Kai, GPS man): From Shandong, expert from the Chinese Academy of Sciences (CAS) Wuhan University Center for Surveying and Mapping; performed surveying, mapping, and positioning tasks for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. We called him GPS man and was the eyes of the team. He was the first person to ever reach the highest point of Dome A. He has a distinct temperate personality and speaks like a Shanghaier.

06_ZhangS.tif

Tseten Norbu (Tseten): From Tibet, doctor from the Tibet Autonomous Region First People’s Hospital Department of Cardiology and the Altitude Sickness Research Institute. Also a team doctor for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment, he was mainly responsible for preventing and treating altitude sickness among the team members. He is a warmhearted, happy person who lifts the mood of everyone around him.

07_TsetenN.tif

Zou Zhengding (Engineer Zou): A Shanghaier who grew up in Guizhou, engineer from the Guizhou Diesel Engine Plant; mechanic for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He was in charge of the two generators, the heart of the team. He was the entire team’s lifeline. Engineer Zou worked tenaciously—slowly but surely. He spoke as quickly as he worked, making us anxiously wait for him to finish every sentence.

08_ZouZ.tif

Wei Fuhai (Mechanic Wei): From Dalian, works for the Polar Research Institute of China; mechanic for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. Mechanic Wei is a member of the ’80s generation, is extremely clever and capable, and excels at planning and arranging minute details. Mechanic Wei has much experience in the Antarctic interior and with vehicle technology and excels at dealing with complex problems without ever becoming flustered.

09_WeiF.tif

Cao Jianxi (Mechanic Cao): From Hunan, graduate of Tongji University, works for the Polar Research Institute of China; mechanic for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He is a low-key person and a dependable worker, and he even kept up his English study regimen out on the ice sheet. Mechanic Cao is a proactive worker and quick thinker, also from the ’80s generation.

10_CaoJ.tif

Gong Xuefei (Lao Gong): From Anhui, scientist at the CAS Nanjing Institute of Astronomical Optics and Technology; tractor driver for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment, also responsible for scientific research. The Inland Detachment jokingly called him Lao Gong, which is a homophone for husband in Chinese. He is a thin fellow who emanate a meditative air and is always well mannered and in high spirits.

11_GongX.tif

Xu Bo (Reporter Bo): From Hubei, China Central Television (CCTV) reporter, responsible for advance reporting for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He has a fair complexion and somehow managed to be the only team member to return from the ice sheet without a nice dark tan. He is a friendly person to talk to, holds nothing back in his work, and is a fine young member of the next generation.

12_XuB.tif

Xu Jin (Cameraman Jin): From Beijing, CCTV photojournalist, responsible for advance reporting for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. He is a man of few words and often appears to be in deep thought, which makes people mistake him for being slow to respond. He has outstanding outdoor work and photography skills. He took some of the photos that appear in this book.

13_XuJ.tif

Yao Xu (Builder Yao): From Anhui, Baosteel crew member, helped to build Kunlun Station at Dome A. He was the most enthusiastic worker on the Baosteel crew and showed great intelligence in everything he did. He drove the tractor and liked to mull over problems in his head. He invented the combined transport method and double group weight distribution method, which boosted our transportation efficiency.

14_YaoX.tif

Zhang Hongzhong (Chef Zhang): From Beijing, works at Tongren Hospital, served as cook for the 25th CHINARE Inland Detachment. Chef Zhang is frank and sincere and always has a smile on his face. He speaks with a genuine Beijing accent and acts the part of a chivalrous Beijinger. During the expedition, he whipped up all kinds of outstanding food using the limited resources available to us, ensuring we all had the strength we needed to get the job done.

15_ZhangH.tif

Part 1

Go South, Go South, Go Farther South!

En Route to the World of Snow and Ice

Chapter 1

Boarding the Snow Dragon: The South Pole Dream Begins Here

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

It was precisely 2:00 p.m. as I stepped into the terminal of Beijing International Airport. My flight to Sydney via Shanghai was to take off at three thirty-five. Once in Australia, I was to board the Snow Dragon (Xuelong), temporarily berthed at the port of Fremantle, and join the other members of the 25th China National Antarctic Research Expedition (CHINARE). This would be the official start of my journey to Antarctica.

I’d been to the terminal of Beijing International Airport many times, but even though this visit had great significance, I was not as excited as I thought I would be. Was I getting old, or was I just that much wiser?

The flight from Shanghai to Sydney was to last more than ten hours, so I had more than enough time to collect my thoughts. Antarctica. Its mention brings to mind scenes of astounding beauty: the Aurora australis, a world of snow and ice, listless seals, and charmingly naïve but romantically faithful emperor penguins. I knew very well that my journey would be full of danger and challenges, and I reminded myself that I must be fully ready to face these at all times.

Actually, from the first preparations for the trip to the final farewell, I had tried my best to play down the risks of this trip to my friends and family. If I truly let them know all the risks, it would only add to their worries and anxiety, which would do no good. This was my style of doing things.

Through many years of work, I had grown accustomed to planning in advance and preparing for the worst. I started anticipating the different situations that might occur on this trip to Antarctica. My thoughts slowed to a crawl, and I suddenly dozed off midflight, something I rarely do.

Wednesday, November 5

We landed in Sydney at 8:40 a.m. local time (5:40 a.m. Beijing time). After nineteen years, I once again found myself at the Sydney Airport. Even though I am in my forties and all the wiser for being over the hill, when faced with the once-familiar terminal and airport, I was overcome by the sentiment that people really do change while the world around them remains the same.

Nineteen years ago, I left China for the first time and took my first flight, landing at Sydney Airport. On that trip I had to take another flight to Adelaide, the capital of the state of South Australia, to complete my residency at Modbury Hospital. That was the first time I travelled far from home to another country, and I was a little uneasy, but still very smug.

At the time, I marveled at the facilities, services, and stores the Sydney airport terminal offered. Now, nineteen years later, fate had brought me back here and the airport was still the same, with the same old facilities. Even the people and smell of the airport seemed familiar, while I, after all these years, no longer saw the Sydney airport with that brash youngster’s eyes of wonder and envy.

I took a domestic flight from Sydney to Perth, the capital of the state of Western Australia. Perth has a small spartan airport that is clean, tidy, and friendly. Perth enjoys four distinct seasons and has a Mediterranean climate. It is the sunniest state capital in Australia, and with it being the end of spring and beginning of summer in the Southern Hemisphere, the locals were already coming out in their short sleeves.

I took a taxi from the Perth airport and told the driver to take me to the local train station where I could catch a train to the small town of Fremantle, a port a little over six miles south of Perth where our ship the Snow Dragon was docked. The driver told me that instead he could take a side road from the airport to Fremantle, and even though it would be a little more expensive (fifteen Australian dollars), it would save a lot of running around and frustration, so I agreed to his proposal.

I got along well with the taxi driver, and before I knew it, more than half an hour had passed and we were already in Fremantle. Fremantle was a typical Australian town with very few tall buildings. Its tallest structure was a memorial to the soldiers who died fighting in the Korean War. The architecture was mostly in an old European style, and the entire town was quiet and peaceful.

The taxi crept around the port in search of the Snow Dragon, and I knew from previously contacting the captain and a local agent that it was docked near the train station. We finally found the train station, which was very small and had a quiet entrance. It was a quaint little building that at first glance looked like a church.

Right behind the train station, I saw the boom of a towering red crane. I had seen the Snow Dragon’s crane in pictures and was pretty sure that this was it. The taxi stopped, and it was a great relief when the two giant Chinese characters for Snow Dragon written on the side of the great red ship came into view, as that meant I was in the right place.

A group of people in bright red uniforms was standing on the pier, and a staunch square-faced man with a handsome face and a crew cut stood nearby, overseeing the assembly of two German-built PB300 tractors. When I first saw the tractors, they weren’t as big as I had imagined they would be—they looked like little tanks. The handsome supervisor was Professor Li Yuansheng, the legendary prince of the ice sheet and captain of the Interior Detachment.

The moment I stepped onto the deck of the Snow Dragon, it felt like nothing could stop me from going to Antarctica. I was going for sure!

1_Nov5.tif

The reoutfitted Snow Dragon docks at the Australian port of Fremantle, restocking on food and supplies in preparation for the trip to Zhongshan Station.

I was assigned to share a cabin with Captain Li Yuansheng. It was a single-person room on the fifth deck that Li had previously had to himself. As the 204 people on the 25th CHINARE made it the largest expedition to date, nearly forty people did not have regular beds, and I slept on a long sofa in Captain Li’s room.

The conditions on board the ship were better than I had imagined. There was a bathroom and shower in our room, air conditioning in the cabin, decent food, and even free beer, milk, and instant coffee. Most importantly, the ship had a full set of communications equipment.

The cabin was messier than I had expected, but I came to realize that this made sense because there were only seven women on the 204-member team, so the men didn’t make a great effort to keep up appearances. People usually suppress their messy sides in their ordinary lives, and after a period of discomfort, I quickly got used to the conditions on board the ship. We could leave things lying around, our beds unmade and blankets unfolded, and smelly socks lying around everywhere—and there was no one to go after us, giving us an indescribable feeling of freedom.

Thursday, November 6

The Snow Dragon had arrived at the port of Fremantle on the evening of November 3. After a few days of repairs and supplies, it would set sail tomorrow, November 7. I didn’t have much to do today, so I decided to explore the ship.

The Snow Dragon is a 20,000-ton B1 class icebreaker that was imported from Ukraine in 1993. Aided by the breakup of the former Soviet Union, the Chinese government bought the ship for the low price of $17.5 million. It underwent a series of upgrades that cost nearly $31 million and greatly improved the ship’s scientific equipment and living facilities. Now the Snow Dragon was worth around $110 million.

Below the first deck was a multipurpose room that can hold about 150 people and a small swimming pool that is about sixteen to twenty feet wide, thirty-three feet long, and ten feet deep when full (even though he can’t swim, Captain Li tried it out once and nearly drowned). The pool hadn’t been filled with fresh water yet, but perhaps it would be once we could find enough fresh water. Next to the pool was a mini sauna along with a fitness room with some basic equipment. To the right of the pool was a box-shaped room with a high ceiling and basketball hoops on the walls. The court could be used to play basic games even though it was less than half the size of a regular basketball court. But I wondered how accurate our shots would be after we set sail and the ship started to sway.

Unlike on most cruise ships, the expedition team members were allowed to freely enter the bridge on the highest deck as long as we kept quiet and didn’t make a racket or disturb the captain and other crew members. The bridge was clearly more spacious than the other rooms on the ship and was open from front to back. It had downward-tilting glass windows facing all directions that allowed for a clear view of the ocean and surroundings.

The Snow Dragon relied on satellite navigation, and I spotted an electronic nautical chart shielded by a pane of glass that was run by GPS. The ship would basically have no problems as long as it followed the course plotted on the electronic chart. It seemed that today’s captains had much fewer demands placed on them in terms of navigational skills and individual decision making, compared to explorers in the eighteenth century or earlier such as Zheng He, the famous fifteenth-century explorer who sailed the seas southwest of China. Sailors of his era had to rely on experience and intuition to navigate their ships.

The captain of the Snow Dragon was a thin, affable middle-aged man who was not at all like the pipe-smoking bearded, eagle-eyed captain of my imagination. I carefully stepped into the pilot’s cabin, expecting to be sternly told to leave us to our work, but the smiling captain quickly expelled my fears. After greeting me, he briefly answered my questions about piloting the ship. After entering the pilot’s cabin and sailing the ship with the captain, I felt like I had really taken part in what they were doing and had a strange feeling of superiority.

Another task for today was accessing my e-mail on board the ship. We all like to keep in contact with friends and family and I still had much of my regular work to keep up with, so e-mail was very important. Director You, who handled the ship’s communications, was a cheerful middle-aged man with a thick Cantonese accent. To my surprise, he had a full tea service and exquisite little teacups in his room, and he kept up his strict regimen of enjoying his tea even on board the ship. We got to know each other very quickly, and he helped me set up my account and start sending e-mail.

I went back to shore at noon, bought a couple of local newspapers in town, and went to a café where I read the papers, did a little emailing, and kept up on the latest world news. As I have grown older, my reading habits have changed, and I mostly limit myself to the news, history, geography, and the natural world. I pretty much don’t bother reading about the arts like movies, novels, and plays. On the one hand, I was busier than ever before with my work and I had more social commitments, which left me less time to myself. It was getting harder and harder to find the time and energy to really put myself into those stories and share the joys and sorrows that the characters went through. On the other hand, I subconsciously felt that I was already over the hill and supposedly all the wiser for it, so how can I be easily moved by fictitious characters and stories?

Perhaps some people will think I live a dull life, but as long as my family and I are used to it, that is good enough for me.

Chapter 2

Tormented in the Westerlies

Friday, November 7

All twenty-eight members of the Inland Detachment gathered on the pier to jog at 6:00 a.m. Captain Li had two reasons for demanding that we kept up our morning exercises on board the ship. It was meant to keep us physically fit during the nearly one month it would take to sail to Antarctica, and to keep us from getting lazy and sluggish during the month on board the ship.

The formidable task of building a station on the ice sheet determined the special nature of the Inland Detachment. The team was made up of people from all over China from all walks of life. There were professionals from the Chinese Arctic and Antarctic Administration, ice sheet meteorologists, reporters, doctors, a cook, and also twelve workers from the Baosteel Corporation (called China’s greatest migrant workers in the media). The team members belonged to different organizations, and there was no absolute leader. In the harsh environment of the interior, team cooperation would be especially important.

As scheduled, the Snow Dragon weighed anchor at 10:00 a.m., and it slowly sailed out of the port of Fremantle under the guidance of the pilot.

We had good weather when we set sail. There was a gentle breeze and bright sunshine, and everyone was in high spirits, as if this was the beginning to a wondrous journey. But before an hour had passed, the ship began to rock, and our high spirits were quickly dashed by the rolling seas all around us. Nearly everyone started to become seasick, and some people started to vomit.

When you reach middle age, you cannot help but decline physically. I had kept up the good habit of being early to bed and early to rise (my friends joked that this was the custom of a primitive man who works when the sun rises and rests when the sun sets)