Post the Fortieth

Wow.  40 posts, plus the specials.  Crikey.  

I had never imagined that I would have written as many as that.  Jeepers.

40.

Gosh.

Oh well; that's enough of the slack-jawed reflection.  The time for being impressed with myself is at an end.  Let's forge ahead with this post!

Post the Thirty-Ninth

Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London Mawson.

Post the Thirty-Eighth

Mooring the ship.  At Mawson it can be done.  Horseshoe Harbour is deep enough, and the enclosing shoreline close enough that the Aurora can run lines ashore, and be much more secure than if she were at anchor.

Which is good if you're operating in an area replete with opportunities for putting holes in ships.

Post the Thirty-Seventh

Bloody wind.

That accursed cyclone which parked its backside on us at Davis has found us again, and decided to park its backside on us again.

It made the Aurora go away, and put a clunkin' great pause in the resupply of Mawson.  Therefore, what I have to offer you today is:  bugger all.

I have no narrative for you today.  Instead what I have is an agglomeration of unrelated photos.  So you may view this blog post as a kind of 'Aunty Ethel and Uncle Stan's Slide Night'.

So sit back, prepare to fidget and continually check your watch, and let's get on with it!

Post the Thirty-Sixth

We left Davis twice.  It seems only right and fair that we should therefore arrive at Mawson twice.

And that's what we did.  What follows is a sketchy and ill-thought-out account of our second arrival at Mawson.

Post the Thirty-Fifth

Mawson.

Named after Australia's most celebrated Antarctic explorer, Mawson is the most westerly of Australia's stations.  It is also widely acclaimed by those familiar with our stations as the most picturesque.

What do I reckon about that?

Post the Thirty-Fourth

It's time for some more SCIENCE!

"Hearken ye to SCIENCE for, lo!  SCIENCE yet never sleepeth, even unto the completion of the voyage."  
 - Shakespeare, King Melvin III, Part IV

Post the Thirty-Third

This is the day we actually left Davis.  For real.  I mean it!

Post the Thirty-Second

The Leaving of Davis

or

The day we left Davis without actually going anywhere.

Post the Thirty-First

Did I say that Post the Thirtieth would be the last one submitted from Davis?  Did I?  Did I?!

Well, it turns out that that was a dirty stinkin' lie.  Because here comes another one!  'ray!

Post the Thirtieth

The Davis summer season of 2012/13 is rapidly drawing to a close.  Before we leave, however, there is once final paroxysm of frenetic activity - the resupply.

Or, as we like to call it:  THE RESUPPLY!!!  [cue dramatic sting:  dahm dahm daaaaaaaahm!]