My Polar Dream

by Jade Hameister

  Dad made a little speech about how proud the family was and how he knew I would be capable of dealing with anything life threw at me (he gave me a letter from Mum that I was to save until later) and we took some photographs with the family’s Australian flag, which we carry with us on every adventure. Then it was time to head to ALE’s camp. It was over.

  Among a number of unexpected records, I had achieved my original simple goal – to complete the Polar Hat-Trick.

  I’d been aware of almost none of the records when we’d begun planning these expeditions three years ago, but it was an extraordinary feeling to make history.

  Now for a hot meal at camp.

  15

  THE END OF THIS

  CHAPTER

  To my darling baby girl. As I sit here writing this letter to you, you are upstairs tucked up in a warm safe bed. As you read this you will be in one of the coldest, most extreme parts of the planet, a long way from your mama. I am feeling loads of emotions today, as I write, and a load more on the day you are reading this. To let your little girl wander off into the big world is extremely daunting for a mum. My natural instinct is to wrap you up from anything that may harm you or hurt you, however I know deep down that this would be harmful for you. You were born a fighter; you fought to survive when you first entered this world, and now you are fighting to make your mark. I am extremely proud of the young woman you are today. Your journey into adulthood is just beginning and what a way to start. This chapter of your life will be a drawing point for so many more challenges you face. I’m really looking forward to seeing you grow further and enjoying all life has to offer you. Enjoy and remember every last part of this chapter and hold it close to you forever. I couldn’t be prouder and happier for you. I burst with pride. Look forward to a big squeeze soon.

  Love you the most,

  Mum xxx

  This was the letter Dad handed to me when we arrived at the South Pole. It was so special, and I wished Mum was there with me so I could give her a big hug.

  It was so hard to believe we’d made it, and it still is, but little reminders like this were helping it all sink in. And, as eager as I was to get home and see everyone, I was also glad we had a few days left in this unique environment to enjoy, since we had to wait for one of the last-degree teams to arrive to share our plane back to Union Glacier. When I was out on the ice and the conditions were doing their best to blow us off the plateau, all I could think about was getting home. But the thrill of adventure is addictive. Even with the thought of family, friends, hot showers and good food just days away, there was part of me that never wanted to leave.

  The weather stayed clear and the other team (last degree only) arrived on time, so we flew from the Pole back to Union Glacier on schedule. The plane was so cool – built in 1942 and the same type that was used during World War II. I took my face mask and goggles off for a few minutes before we boarded, just so that I could get a few photos in Antarctica with my face actually visible. I was very quickly reminded why we had never gone bare-faced out there. My nose would have been nipped by the frost in no time and the glare from the sun on the snow meant I could barely keep my eyes open. Despite the amazing views below me, within a few minutes of the plane taking off I had fallen asleep.

  The flight to Union Glacier Camp was about three and a half hours and we were due to spend two nights there before flying back to Punta Arenas.

  It was so good to be able to spend time with other people, after almost six weeks with the same four grotty men. The other much-appreciated aspect of having finished the expedition was proper food. I’d put on about 6.5 kilograms before the trip here, and when I weighed myself at the camp I’d lost seven kilos. Not surprisingly, after bringing my tastebuds back to life with some French onion soup, homemade chocolate chip cookies and fresh fruit, I couldn’t stop eating. Eating a proper dinner was amazing, particularly since dessert was fruit pie and cream.

  We met another team of adventurers at the camp: Leo Houlding, Jean Burgun and Mark Sedon, who had just completed their ‘Spectre’ Expedition. They’d been out on the ice for almost two months and, with the assistance of kites, had travelled about 2000 kilometres. They’d also ascended a large unclimbed rock face in the Gothic Mountains, one of the most remote ranges in the world. It was amazing to trade stories with them and compare journeys. Leo had previously featured in the documentary The Wildest Dream, which tracks the ascent of Everest by explorer George Mallory, who died on the North-east Ridge in 1924. Leo also had a baby daughter, so was quite interested in my story.

  The trip that the trio had just completed was absolutely extraordinary. Some of the footage they showed us from their expedition was incredible, and although I’m not a big fan of rock climbing, it really got me thinking about things I might like to do in the future.

  Almost immediately after returning home from Antarctica, I had to go back to school to start year 11 – or, as all parents and teachers will tell you, the first of two of the most important years of your life. It’s not that I don’t like school, but after everything I’d been through it was (and still is) hard to get motivated and stay focused, particularly when there is so much else going on around me. Turning up to classes five days a week is okay – but finding the time and motivation to do homework and extra study has been hard. But I realised I needed to shift my focus. For the past three years, my focus has been on completing the Polar Hat-Trick; now it has to be on finishing school and doing as well as I can.

  There are so many other things that I’d rather be doing, though, so refocusing on school hasn’t been easy. I want to try to make a difference in the areas I care about. I want to keep exploring and pushing boundaries. While my school and my teachers have been incredibly supportive, the school system just doesn’t allow the flexibility I need, so I feel a bit caged.

  There’s one question I keep hearing now: What’s next? And it’s a really tricky question because I don’t know the answer, but feel like I should.

  There is only so much I can describe to people about my experiences, but I think a deeper understanding of the environment we were in and how I was feeling will come out of the Nat Geo documentary and this book – which is why they are now so important to me. This book, especially, conveys so much more of the story behind the scenes and I hope that, in sharing my experiences, I will inspire people to care about the incredible planet we call home, live their dreams and make a difference.

  For me, it seems hard to grasp that, in the short term at least, there are no new adventures on the horizon. Having completed something that has involved so much time and hard work has definitely left me in a bit of a lull since being home. I’ve had plenty of things to look forward to, but not having something big to work towards right now has left a hole. There are times when all I want to do is return to the snow because, as hard as it is, it is a really simple way of being and far from any other forms of existence. You have a single goal, and that’s to survive and get through another day. All of life’s excesses are stripped away. You need food, water, warmth and the will to keep pushing, not much else.

  There’s a phenomenon I have recently become aware of called ‘the overview effect’. I didn’t know if what I was feeling was common, but I discovered that astronauts often feel it, too. When they’re in space looking back at Earth and at the stars they realise just how small we really are. ‘A cognitive shift in awareness’ is how Wikipedia describes it. I have the exact same feeling after living in such remote and hostile locations with only a few other people within thousands of kilometres around me. It has completely changed the way I think about the universe and our place in it. It makes me think about everything I’ve done in the past, what I want to achieve in the future and whether it means very much at all. Realising that we and our planet are just a tiny speck in an infinite universe gives you a completely different perspective on life.

  I don’t want to be known as a polar explorer or polar adventurer. This has been just a chapter in my life that is no
w complete and I am ready to move on to the next.

  As I made my way along this journey, there are three things that became really important to me. And they became clearer, the further along the journey I got. The first was empowering young women to shift their focus from how they appear to the possibilities of what they can do. The second was to inspire young people to choose bravery over perfection. And finally, to raise awareness of climate change and the effect it’s having on our planet.

  I also have a growing interest in entrepreneurship, and space travel and exploration. Elon Musk is a big idol of mine. Earth is currently our only known habitable planet, and I believe we must try to do our absolute best to protect it. But I also believe there is so much potential beyond Earth, in the largely unexplored universe, for other planets to sustain life. With the constant advances in technology, and the entrepreneurial passion of so many powerful human beings, I am positive we can work together to design a future in the stars.

  I’m excited to see where the next chapter of living takes me.

  Thank you for your support on my journey so far. x

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I’m especially grateful to the following people for their incredible support of my polar dream:

  Dad for believing in my dream, dedicating so much of his time to making it a reality and for all the unique memories we’ve shared as father-daughter.

  Mum for all of her love and support and for suffering the loneliness of having Dad and me away from home for such a long time pursuing my dream.

  My brother Kane for his unconditional friendship, love and support, for all the laughs and more to come.

  My extended family, especially my grandparents Grandy and Papa, my Auntie Karen who is my biggest supporter, Uncle Johnny and Auntie Emma for everything they’ve done for me.

  All my friends for their support, especially my best friends, Zoe and Mia, for the letters they wrote to keep me motivated throughout all three expeditions, and Cooper and Will for their love and support back home.

  Eric Philips and his company, Icetrek, for organising the logistics for each expedition and being a very professional, knowledgeable and great guide.

  Petter Nyquist for being the first cameraman I have ever dealt with (and being so supportive and patient).

  Heath Jamieson for being my first true mentor, teaching me about myself, how to be a better human and for becoming such a great friend along the way.

  Ming D’Arcy for being such a dedicated cameraman and for encouraging chats about the fourth dimension.

  Frederique Olivier for being camerawoman on the Greenland expedition.

  Vilborg Arna Gissurardóttir (Villa) for being such a strong female role model and inspiring me to embark on my own polar journeys.

  The team at the documentary production company, WTFN, especially Daryl Talbot, Steve Oemecke, Wes Crook and Olwyn Jones. A special mention to Wayne Dyer, the Producer of both Nat Geo documentaries for his passion and dedication to his craft and becoming an extended member of our family.

  Everyone at National Geographic Channel and National Geographic Society, especially Jules Oldroyd, Global Head of Programming, for making the decision to support my expeditions and everything else she did to welcome me into the Nat Geo family, including facilitating my attendance at two Explorers Symposiums in Washington. Also, the Australian team at Nat Geo and Fox, especially Jerry Butterfield.

  The team at the Australian Geographic Society for their support and sponsorship, especially Chrissie Goldrick and Rebecca Cotton.

  The team at Empire Talent, especially Daryl Talbot and Kristen Maher for all their hard work.

  The teams at Optus and Invisalign for all their support.

  The team at Mont Adventure Equipment for providing all my gear needs, in particular David Edwards.

  3 Degrees Marketing, especially my friend David Abela, Alex Rutman and Katelyn Flood.

  All my teachers at Haileybury College, for being so flexible in accommodating my ‘extra-curricular activites’ outside school and who gave up their personal time to help me catch up on my missed schoolwork.

  Leigh Gant at Op Meta for years of his strength and conditioning coaching and programming.

  Dean Staples and Lydia Brady for their patient and caring guidance at the start of my journeys.

  Jon Yeo from TEDx for teaching me how to talk on stage and share my message.

  Michel, the French chef at the ALE South Pole camp for making me that ham and cheese sandwich.

  Danielle Miller from Enlighten Education for all her encouragement and support early on in my journeys.

  Everyone who posted messages of support on social media and online. We may not have met, but your positivity made an impact.

  And last, but definitely not least, to the amazing team at Pan Macmillan for making this book a reality and truly caring about ensuring it tells my story in my own way – thank you to Claire Craig, Charlotte Ree, Danielle Walker and Carrie Hutchinson.

  My family at the summit of Mt Kosciuszko when I was six and Kane was four.

  My best friends, Zoe (left) and Mia (right), and me just before I flew out to Antarctica.

  Heath (left), Ming (right) and me at the South Pole.

  Villa and me celebrating my 16th birthday at The Blue Lagoon, Iceland.

  Petter Nyquist and me in the Russian helicopter, North Pole 2016.

  Funny photo of me wearing a pink hoodie with a fur ruff when I was only four years old!

  My brother and me at Everest Base Camp in 2013. I was 12 and Kane was 10.

  Me at 13 years old when I started trying to put muscle on for my polar journeys.

  Where I live, the only way to really train for pulling a sled is to drag a tyre on the beach.

  Dad and me training in Svalbard before heading off on our North Pole expedition.

  Dad hauling his sled through the ice rubble during the North Pole expedition.

  Pressure ridges can run for miles, so often there is no choice but to climb them and haul your sled over.

  On the frozen Arctic Ocean, currents and ice movement pull the ice apart and create open sections of water called ‘leads’.

  Skiing on thin ice on our way to the North Pole.

  Crossing an open water lead using the sleds as a raft.

  Dragging my sled over a huge compression zone on the frozen Arctic Ocean.

  The sun never sets in May on the Arctic Ocean – it just rotates around you at the same level on the horizon.

  Reaching the North Pole, age 14.

  At our starting point on the West coast of Greenland, we carried our sleds, one by one, to where the ice had retreated.

  In the early part of our Greenland crossing the weather was so warm that we got a lot of our drinking water from the ice melts without having to use the stove.

  Working our way through the maze of the West coast ice fall.

  Stuck in the tent trying to dry all our gear after getting caught in a rain blizzard.

  Trying to stay ahead of the blizzard.

  Low cloud on the Greenland plateau.

  Approaching the abandoned US spy station (DYE-2) in the middle of Greenland.

  Signing the visitors’ book at DYE-2. The station is full of junk that was left behind when the US abandoned the station in October 1988.

  Opening a letter from Zoe. These letters from my best friends, Zoe and Mia, were always a laugh.

  Lunchtime in Greenland. This was the only time during each day that we removed our skis.

  High on the Greenland plateau.

  Buff pulled high, headphones in and wearing only liner mitts – a warm weather expedition kit.

  One of our camps in the West coast ice fall.

  Dad and me holding our family flag at the Greenland expedition finishing point – Isortoq Hut on the East coast. Check out the raccoon tan!

  Other than fuel, this was all the gear I carried in my sled to the South Pole (my 40 days of food is in the boxes).

  On every expedition, at th
e end of each day, I would write in my journal. It was a great way to process the hardships and keep a record of my experiences.

  The air was so cold in Antarctica that when I threw hot water from my cup into the air it froze instantly.

  My neoprene face mask would end up covered with icicles from the moisture of my breath freezing.

  Our tent was hammered by the Antarctic winds through the night (and the sun never set – it was 24 hours of daylight) so it was often hard to sleep.

  Ming toughing it out to get some footage from behind us in strong polar winds.

  Kirby Cone. We were the first humans to see this feature from the ground on the Kansas Glacier, Antarctica.