We know it’s somewhere beneath us, and now the underwater search begins.
I will share much more over the coming weeks about the sub-sea search efforts, which is a scientific and engineering achievement of equal importance. For now, though, I am thinking about Alfred Lansing’s book, "Endurance," about the ill-fated Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition. Lansing wrote that, right around the same time the southern Weddell trapped Endurance in its icy snare, the expedition team paused briefly to celebrate Sir Ernest Shackleton’s 41st birthday. Little did Shackleton know that the next two years would be the most difficult years of his life as he and his team battled for their survival.
I celebrated my 41st birthday just prior to joining the Endurance22 Expedition team in Cape Town, and now I’m floating above the wreck of his ship, looking out over the same ice-choked landscape that he saw swallow his beloved Endurance. At age 41, both he and I had/have young children at home, a significant other and many other loved ones we were/are eager to see again, and I can feel—perhaps better than anyone in the world at this moment—the sense of despair that he felt as his lifeline to the rest of the world, Endurance, sank beneath the ice. I am, of course, sitting comfortably on a modern ice-breaking ship, but it is not hard to imagine standing on the frozen surface of the Weddell Sea just beyond my window with nothing but ice and emptiness as far as you can see. It must have taken a super-human act of courage, strength and resiliency to stay positive and carry on. And that’s exactly what Shackleton did. Over the coming months, he led his entire expedition team to safety and, ultimately, rescue.
