Quiet Courage

In this bleak but magnificent landscape, Tessa realised that bravery comes in many forms

Here’s to The Boss.’ Simon downs his tot of vodka in one. We all follow suit, huddling in the chill grey mist and stand for a while quietly paying our respects to the famous polar explorer.

‘Rumour has it that Sir Ernest Shackleton himself enjoyed the odd tipple,’ Simon tells us. ‘That’s how this tradition developed. Everyone drinks a toast to The Boss when they visit his final resting place. As well as honouring the great man, it’s a perfect way to combat the cold before we set off to visit the stars of South Georgia, otherwise known as the king penguins.

I’ll hand you over to our expedition leader Tessa to tell you more about them.’

‘Thanks, Simon.’ I look around at the small crowd, all raring for the next part of this great adventure.

‘I know you really enjoyed seeing all the different types of penguin down in Antarctica a couple of weeks ago,’ I begin. ‘Well that was nothing compared to the numbers waiting for us here. Just over that hill, there are literally thousands of them. South Georgia is home to the second-largest of all the penguin species. King penguins are about the height of a four-year-old child – much larger than the ones you’ve already seen. They have no fear of humans, so you can wander among them or just sit and watch as they go about their business. They’re very sociable and inquisitive, so they may well come up close to check you out. Is everyone ready?’

Everyone in the group nods enthusiastically. This is the moment they have waited for. ‘OK, let’s go. Enjoy!’ We hoist our rucksacks over the bulky polar layers and set off along the wild, windswept beach. In the distance, we can already hear the trumpeting calls of thousands of penguins.

Bill, a sprightly 80-year-old from the Isle of Skye, falls into step beside me.

‘Ernest Shackleton must have been extremely brave to lead his men all the way over here when their ship was lost

‘I think how it must have been for those old explorers’

in Antarctica.’ He shakes his head, trying to imagine it.

‘Yes, it must have been terrifying,’ I reply. ‘Sailing here in a tiny lifeboat, then tramping over the mountains in all the snow and ice to find help.’

‘Each time our ship hits rough seas, I think how it must have been for those old explorers,’ Bill muses. ‘I know we’re on a pretty small vessel ourselves, but we’re warm and cosy in our cabins with proper beds and somewhere to dry our wet clothes at the end of the day. They were absolutely amazing to endure the conditions back then.’

‘I totally agree with you, Bill. But whenever I come here, I always find myself thinking how hard it must have been for his wife back at home. I wonder how Emily Shackleton felt each time she waved him off on one of his expeditions, never knowing if she’d see him again.’

Bill nods thoughtfully. ‘Aye, Tessa, you’re right there. I imagine she had to prepare to lose him every time he went away. That’s brave too.’

I watch him stride away to catch up with the others.

This is my fifth trip accompanying travellers to some of the world’s coldest and most inhospitable regions, which, nevertheless, seem to have an irresistible pull for many people, myself included.

I can see Simon’s red jacket in the distance as he picks his way along the path known as the Penguin Highway. He’s totally surrounded by tall blackand-white figures standing shoulder to shoulder. On this rather grey South Georgia day, the glow from their bright yellow chins resembles the light from thousands of lanterns. This is Simon’s first stint as my deputy and I know he too is already completely smitten with the frozen south of our planet.

As I climb to my favourite spot to watch the penguins receive their visitors, I reflect on what Bill has just said.

He’s right – Emily Shackleton was brave too. It was a different kind of bravery from that of her restless, adventureseeking husband, one that accepted loneliness and

anxiety as part and parcel of marriage to the man she loved.

I sit watching everyone as they move carefully around among their colourful, brighteyed hosts. Bill is watching a little group swimming, sleek and bullet-like in the lagoon.

Many people have shared their personal stories. It’s a long voyage, and the isolation and close proximity encourage confidences as real life fades into the far distance. Bill told us that his daughters had been aghast about the expedition.

‘They said I was way too old. They came up with every reason they could think of why I shouldn’t come. Maybe I’d be seasick, or I’d struggle to manage all the hiking.

They even said I might die of hypothermia! They’re grand girls and I know they mean well but I was determined. It has always been my dream to do something like this and it was now or never. I worked out a training programme so I’d be fit enough to keep up. For a year, I walked five miles a day around the Highlands and cycled another five. Now I reckon I’m fitter than those girls of mine, who jump into their cars just to go down the road.’

No one argued with that. Bill, at 80, is easily as agile as the younger members of the group.

A little further away, I watch Maria, who is mesmerised by a group of tall penguins standing stock-still in a perfect triangle. They look just like a choir dressed in their black and yellow concert best, waiting for the conductor to give them the signal to launch into their first number.

This is a very important day for Maria. Since retiring, she has made it her mission to visit every single penguin species in the world. As a small girl in Spain she became fascinated by them. She can’t explain it. If we ask, she just shrugs her shoulders and smiles. Her journey has taken her far and wide, and today she can cross the final species off her list. Her mission is complete.

‘What will you do next?’ Simon asked her last night over dinner.

‘That is a very good question, Simon. I think I have indulged myself enough with my penguins. Now it is once again time to help my own species. So I am returning to my profession as a doctor before I am too old. I have already been accepted to work with Médecins Sans Frontières. You may know them?’

‘Doctors Without Borders,’ Simon translates. ‘You’re very brave, Maria. That’s the organisation that sends doctors and nurses to work in disaster zones, isn’t it? Where will you be stationed?’

‘As yet I do not know but I will go wherever they send me. I’ve signed up for six months.’

We’re all full of admiration.

Simon plonks himself down beside me.

‘How are you doing, Tess? Not too cold sitting up here?’

‘No, I’m fine. I’m well insulated and I enjoy the bird’s-eye view. I was just remembering something Bill said about bravery. We were talking about Emily Shackleton and we agreed that she was brave in her own way. I started thinking about Bill, who had to work really hard in order to come on this trip, getting himself fit and sticking with his dream even though his family were so opposed to the idea.’

‘It’s no mean feat at his age, that’s for sure,’ Simon agrees. ‘And then there’s Maria. I must

‘Now it is once again time to help my own species’

admit, I thought she was just a bit eccentric travelling around the world to find her penguins, but I really admire her for what she’s about to do. She could end up in a war zone but she isn’t the least bit daunted.’

We ponder quietly for a few moments until I get to my feet.

‘Let’s join the others before we’re frozen to the spot.’

As we walk, Simon tells me about a conversation he had earlier.

‘We were all standing watching a huge group of kings,’ he says. ‘Right in the middle, we spotted one with feathers so pale, it looked almost white.’

‘Oh, wow, those are very rare, Simon. You did well to see it.’

‘Yes, it was amazing.’ ‘Did everyone get a look at it?’ I ask.

‘I think so. I was talking to Clare about it. You know, the young woman from Brisbane?’

‘Yes, of course. She’s really good fun. She’s busy writing a blog about this trip for a magazine back in Australia.’

‘While we were all watching the pale penguin, she said she wondered if he was ever bullied because he was different from the others. I said he seemed to be perfectly relaxed, standing peacefully right in the thick of things. I asked what made her think of it. She told me that she was born with a damaged hip. It meant that as a child she walked with a really bad limp until she was old enough to have an operation. She still walks with a slight limp now if she gets tired. Anyway, she said that she came in for quite a bit of teasing at school because she couldn’t do all the things the other kids did. It must have been tough growing up in Australia, where everyone’s into surfing and swimming and all that active stuff. That’s why she focused on the penguin that was different from all the rest. She was thinking of her own experience.’

It’s time for us to leave and hundreds of penguins line the shoreline like a farewell party. Nobody can resist the temptation to wave goodbye. They’ve been such perfect hosts.

That evening, I take my usual half-hour stroll on deck before turning in. The sea churns around the ship and the air is icy. This job wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea but for me it’s the best in the world.

My thoughts turn again to Ernest Shackleton and his heroic battles with the elements. But I also remember his stoic wife back at home. Then I think of the brave travellers on this present-day expedition. Courage, I decide, has many guises. It can be found in the determination to stick to a goal, or the desire to help others who are struggling, and also in finding the strength to rise above personal difficulties.

A quiet kind of courage. THE END Sue McVerry, 2021