Very Suprising

One day when I was in Antarctica I was called to help drill a hole in the ice for a set of divers. They needed someone to help keep the ice off the drill bit while they drilled the diving hole. I was a General Assistant - the do anything crew. I was sent to the heavy equipment yard and to hook up with Wild Bill. Now Bill was a Montana guy and a heavy equipment operator all year round - in the states and here on the ice. He was a handsome man, he was young, built with wide shoulders and Hollywood blond slightly wavy hair and a bristly beard. I brought him a bag lunch and I shared his one seat cab as we rode out together to the diving site. He was a bit shy and I was a lot shy. And so we rode with the squeaky grinding metal loudness of the heavy equipment, some heavy metal music and a huge drill bit dangling on the front end of the machine we were driving without talking much. I think we probably booked out for a 2 hour ride moving a clipping 7 miles per hour. It is really hard to describe the beauty of a white continent. We rocked down the road off the island and onto the ice and past the sastrugi where the water/ice meets the island. There are a few things you can see when you walk around McMurdo - like looking over the Royal Society Mountains, Scott's Hut, smoke rising from Mt Erebus and planes landing on the ice runway 2 miles out on the ice road. But when you look out over the ice and you are driving over the snow - you see all the tiny ledges created by the wind, and you see the blue and sparkles and you see the sand and the grit that are all blown together. The snow in Antarctica was different than it is here. It was not fluffy or wet - it was crisp, dry and held together much differently. This particular day it was amazing. The sun was bright, the sky blue, blue with little tiny floating billowy white clouds and the sea ice covered with snow was always moving at the surface from the wind - wispy crystals sweeping different directions with the breeze. We located the bright orange diver shed and the divers. We pulled the shed over and the divers identified the new location for the hole. This huge drill started turning - it was yellow and clunky and about 4 feet in diameter. At first it started shaving into the ice and when Wild Bill pulled it up, my job was to keep snow and ice off of it so it did not get stuck. I used a shovel to pull the snow and ice off and then Bill would go back into the hole and drill deeper. I cannot explain the incredible color of the ice and the layers you see when you drill down 20 feet through ice. Then all of a sudden just as you start to get used to dodging the ice and are into the rhythm of the running engine and vibrating metal, all of a sudden the drill pushes through and Wild Bill pulls it up and there is incredible blue and green water - it was amazing like magic only you know the water was always there but somehow is was still a humbling giant surprise. A couple more dips of the drill and all the snow and ice are out and you look down into this cavern and at the end is gorgeous water, the ocean. We pulled the shed over the hole and talked with the divers as they had lunch and changed. We watched as one diver went into the water. They could only stay down for a short time and they had to be careful of the male seals that might claim the hole and stop them from being able to surface. My, you could see things in the water; you could see anemone and seals - huge Weddell seals under the ice. I know people think you might constantly being thinking about how cold it is in Antarctica and ways of keeping warm, but really I forgot sometimes about anything else except what I was doing in moments like this. I had a bunch of these kinds of experiences when I was there.

I had one with Gromit once - an amazing experience where all I could see was us. It happened during an agility class. Nothing that anyone else would have had any idea about - just Gromit and me. We tuned into each other really keenly and he did a series of 6 tight jumps. We made it through the tight turns and directions - wrap around poles and leaping all in a swift smooth even steady strides. There was no choppiness in his step, his shoulders and tail all flowing on the same line. I don't remember using any words just hands and body language. He wasn't as fast as a sheltie or Aussie. But he was doing something with me and we couldn't see anything but each other. I remember this experience, he was so athletic and focused, and I remember it because we were together. It is not easy for me to tune in with people, I have some mistrust of almost everyone save a very few friends and my partner. So to be able to tune in and trust Gromit - it was really fun and energizing. I wanted to stop after the six jump sequence - it was enough for me. We kept going but that was enough.

I forget about agility titles. I would like us to qualify once. I think, though, the more I focus on our connection the less important the qualify will be and the more opportunity I will have to tune in with Gromit. There is something very humbling about his big white graciousness being present with me - very surprising, very dear.