Winding down
Every thing must come to an end I guess. Wellington was making noises about reports and lists for the next expedition. Questions were being asked as to what people planned to do when they came back to New Zealand.
Finally a date was set for the changeover. This brought up a whole new set of problems, not the least of which was where I would be posted when we returned. I did briefly consider staying on but only briefly.
The thought of getting to know a whole bunch of new people and doing the whole thing over again just did not appeal. Besides the prospect of enjoying the bright lights (well brightish) of New Zealand, plus friends and family reunions was becoming more and more important.
Discussions of what we would do with our year's salary, which had accrued in our bank accounts at home, was the usual topic of mealtime conversations. I was thinking along the lines of the big OE, and in fact I did take a six months leave without pay and toured Europe but that was nearly a year later.
Our work changed to more of a tidying up mode as we made everything ready for the incoming party. Soon the changeover day was only a month away and a mood of anticipation began to take hold. Up to now thoughts of returning to "civilisation" had been automatically suppressed, as there was no way short of a disaster that it could happen.
But now it was only a month away. Then it was only a week, and everything was geared up ready for the changeover. When word came that the Holmglen had left Wellington everything was ready, The winches and foxes, the truck and tractor, the roads and telephone communications, everything was as good as we could make it. I started listening on the ship communication frequencies waiting for word from the Holmglen. Finally word came, she was only a days sailing away, then she was due. Regular trips were made to the flagpole on Fleetwoods Bluff about 100 metres away, which would give us the first sight of her as she rounded Rayner point. Then she was here.
The sight of the old Holmglen anchored off Fishing Rock really brought home to us that our year on Raoul was virtually over. Finished were the routines we had established; ended was the easy companionship that had developed over the year, no more the talk at lunch and in the evening. We knew each other well now, but all was about to change.
Apart from the three Met. people who I would see again at work in New Zealand I would not see any of the other members again. All a bit sad really.
However no time to think about these things, the mad rush to get unloaded started immediately.
The first party came ashore, these being the new OIC and some inspectors from Wellington. I met the new Tech and we worked together unloading and talking details of the job.
We were the old hands now and could enjoy the expressions of the new people as they went through the same experience that we had. Wondering just what they had got themselves in to!
This time the weather stayed calm and unloading was completed without a hitch, handover formalities were complete, briefings and debriefings had taken place and finally the time came to embark.
This we did and then an odd thing occurred, no sooner had I stepped aboard when I had an overwhelming urge to be sick. I just made it to a secluded rail and lost my lunch.
This was strange as I immediately felt better and had not the slightest trouble from then on.
I can only put it down to the release of tension that had gradually built more or less over the whole year. Subconciously I think the stress of being responsible for our ability to communicate with the outside world and for the ongoing Met. program, (If the electronics failed no work was done.) must have got to me.
Stepping on that boat released the tension with the aforementioned result.
The trip home was pure holiday, there was nothing to do, the expedition was over apart from a little debriefing when we reached Wellington. In three days we reached the New Zealand coast somewhere off the Wairarapa. We had an ETA for Wellington for 9 am the next day.
But the weather was not finished with us yet; a strong westerly was blowing as we rounded Cape Palliser. There was Wellington just 60 Kilometres away but it took us another 8 hours to cover the distance.
The poor Holmglen just did not like a head wind, we had to tack like a yacht to make any head way at all. Very frustrating. We finally berthed in the early evening. There were few people to greet us due to the long delay however everyone had somewhere to go and we soon dispersed. It was over.
CONCLUSION
I have enjoyed writing this as it has brought back many memories of a very interesting episode in my life.
There were times when I wondered what I was doing in this place, but those moments were few and far between. There really was not much time for introspection, as something was always happening, and there was always interaction with the rest of the party. It was certainly never boring.
Thanks for visiting and reading this.. Cheers Pete.
