I think I've avoided using this word until now, and I can't believe I'm about to say it, but today was definitely fun.
It all started after about two hours, when I came to a lead that I had no choice but to swim across, wearing my drysuit. Until today, swimming leads has scared me silly - it goes against every notion of self-preservation. The adrenaline was flowing as I suited up and climbed into the black water, but half way across the lead, something very strange happened. I realised I was enjoying myself. I stopped swimming for a moment and lay floating on my back with the warm sun on my face. I felt completely relaxed and completely safe, and when I started swimming again, it was with long, smooth strokes rather than the panic-driven doggy paddle I normally use. When I climbed out of the far side, I was a different man - I could deal with anything the Arctic could throw at me.
And it certainly did some throwing today. Dozens and dozens of open leads. I only swam once, but I had some crazy crossings - I skied, I jumped, I crawled over the sledge, I used a giant floating block of ice as a ferry and I made a bridge by pushing huge lumps of snow and ice into the water. The crazier the conditions became, the wider my smile grew - it was like some ridiculous assault course, yet I kept managing to find a way through (or over, across or around).
Today dedication is to Borge Ousland for developing the drysuit, to Helly Hansen for making it, and to Adam Levy for kindly supplying the one that's getting me through all this.
The photo is of my sledge, bobbing obediently across the lead after my swim.
Dispatches: The 'f' word... - Saturday, 17th April 2004
Day's Statistics
