Memories

Recently, I was asked to write a piece about my adventures in polar regions. At first, I thought "I dont go 'adventuring', I am a PhD student. My life consists of reading about experiments, conducting my own experiments, discovering my experiments didnt work, then going back to try and fix them".

Then I realised that the PhD journey is in itself a bit of an adventure - you set off, not sure where your going to end up (or if you are, you find out its not as straight-forward as it might have been), pack yourself a kit of published literature, background knowledge and ideas. You venture out into the world, only to find that you either overlooked packing some vital clue, or that the way forward is criss-crossed with difficulties. You hike up high mountains of achievement and enjoy the view before sliding into valleys of despair when the analysis goes wrong, or a reviewer doesnt like your paper.

And eventually (I hope, as this is the bit I am approaching), you climb out of the last misty years, sore muscles (from sitting and writing too long), weary mind, and with a real sense of having experienced the adventure. I hope I shall be better for it!

However, writing this piece made me realise that I certainly have not filled in this blog with adventure memories as yet! So here is one of my favourites:

The Polar Bear (Summer, 2011)

I was polar bear guard for a student cruise, and we had hiked along a beach to get to this fabulous field site covered in moss, lichens and other plants just below a bird cliff. As we were walking along the beach we came across three sets of bear tracks, and Mertensia maritima, a beautiful grey-purple flowered sandy beach plant. It is otherwise known as 'Oyster Plant'.

Mertensia maritima on the beach.

However, soon after the students settled to working, a thick fog descended. We discussed packing up and leaving as visibility was getting worse, but patches of blue sky above persuaded us to stay for another 5 mins and reassess the situation. About 2 mins after that decision, the bear guard near the beach called out the word; “Polar Bear. Im not kidding! Polar Bear!”

With that, we all gathered into a group, behind those of us with rifles and flare guns. Nervous silence and all I could see was the head of the bear, ears pricked, watching us. We fired a flare, and it turned and ran over the small dune and into the ocean. We packed up all our things and started a quick pace back to where the boat would pick us up – the fog also lifted. Keeping an eye on the bear which swam along the bay as we walked along the beach, we got to the pick up spot. 

The sun was bright overhead, the bear was just floating in the middle of the bay, and the group was being shuttled back to the ship. I will never forget the moment that happened then, watching through binoculars; the bear swam into shore, and walked up on the beach and shook itself, fat rippling down its shoulders, drops of water sparkling, fur shivering down its back! The bear looked to the right, then the left and it saw us and it NODDED, as if to say “Oh! There you are!”. 

Bear tracks on the beach.

It started walking towards us, but when it got to a certain point, we fired another flare and it turned tail and ran away up the glacier. I shall never forget that moment though when the bear nodded towards me - and blow me down, it looked just like the Northland Hello (when you nod your head upwards, slightly raise your eyebrows in greeting of the other person).