Leather may eventually rot. Paper may eventually crumble. Ink may eventually fade. However, the memories of a trip of a lifetime to the untapped center of Antarctica, may be hard to completely vanish. Recently, a lost, small leather journal documenting the voyage of a group of explorers in the early 1900s, has resurfaced from the bowels of ancient packed ice. For a century, snow and ice storms have pummeled the hut that once provided shelter to the navy men of the Terra Nova Expedition. As ice melts, and glaciers move to the sea, artifacts of the ill fated journey to Antarctica start to appear. The expedition lead by Robert Falcon Scott, a British explorer joined by a group of adventurers, photographers and zoologists, ended in the heart of the South Pole in 1912. Several years prior, Robert Scott had already sailed from New Zealand to the Pole, but following his thirst for new discoveries, a second and more ambitious trip was planned. Once they reached, the elements made the team split into two groups, those who perished and those who survived to tell the story. Antarctica, at the time, was probably the last no-man’s land.
The recently found journal belonged to George Murray Levick, a man of many trades – a zoologist, a civil engineer, a photographer and a true seaman at his core. He joined Scott’s expedition and documented wild life and the team’s experiences in the sub zero climate. He made it back home, but without his log book. His stories and notes are now available to us one hundred years later, while the hut and the remains of the expedition, continue to slowly inch towards the sea, miles away from where it once stood.
It’s the human spirit that prevails in stories like these, men and women who put themselves in harm’s way to pursue a dream. Some make it, others never return home, but we all share in common the excitement of discovery, the exploration of our own spirit in the face of adversity or joy. If your journal was to be thawed out one hundred years from now, what would it say?