How to become a polar explorer
British Polar exploration is often considered the domain of the upper-class adventurer, an image bolstered by the likes of Sir Ranulph Fiennes and my new adventure partner and friend, Pen Haddow.
Spending months on end in freezing conditions, entrenched in a world of white, isn’t for the faint-hearted. That said, it’s far too inspiring and amazing to be the preserve of the privileged.
‘Polar Explorer’ simply wasn’t the kind of job on offer to a sixteen-year-old girl from a state school in Norfolk. Not that it mattered. I was far more interested in becoming a journalist. Until a few years ago, it was the only thing I ever really wanted to be.
Job security and conformity feels exactly as it sounds. Safe and warm. Quitting your job with the BBC to re-train as an Antarctic yacht sailor, is not. I have absolutely no idea what made me jump ship. I’d never even sailed a dingy on the Norfolk Broads before taking the plunge and deciding to become a Yachtmaster.
But that was nearly five years ago, and I’ve seen a lot of water pass by, in a variety of often turbulent seas.
After sinking a seizable chunk of my inheritance into training to become a Yachtmaster, I headed straight South to join one of the world’s top expedition yachts, SV Pelagic Australis.
Owned by the legendary Whitbread/Volv0 racing sailor and keen mountaineer Skip Novak, this 65-tonne tank became my home for nearly two years.
Antarctica, South Georgia, the Falklands, Cape Horn. All wilderness on an epic scale.
It was this experience; of complete segregation from modern life, that drove me to want to protect remote and vulnerable environments.
Despite taking a two-year break from journalism, I resolved to use my skills to help educate others on the very real and present plight of the natural world at the Poles.
A brief stint in the Arctic preceded my return to the UK, where I began to write for the New Scientist, specialising in oceans, the Arctic and Antarctica.
An introduction by the internationally respected Polar photographer Martin Hartley led to my first meeting with the explorer Pen Hadow, mentioned above.
Sitting in the members library of the Royal Geographical Society in London, we chatted for hours about the plight of the Poles.
With photographs by Hurley of Shackleton’s trip South hanging from the panelled walls surrounding us, we discussed the different ways in which we wanted to make a difference.
Since then I’ve been in full-time training to become a Polar ExpLaura. From learning how to raise sponsorship to consulting with the likes of National Geographic.
Our next mission involves three world-first attempts in as many years.
It’s going to be huge in scientific significance and an exciting story to follow — to broadcast the worries of the Poles to the masses to affect real change.
I can’t wait to be part of such an amazing adventure. So, while we finalise plans and media partners, our expeditions remain shrouded in secrecy. I’ll share more soon, along with our daunting training plans too.
