To quote Seinfeld: The sea was angry that day, like an old man at a deli trying to return his soup.
We turned tail and ran North yesterday, attempting to our run a couple storms. We are cruising back, and in the Drake passage now, with waves +20 feet. It is supposed to get worse before getting better. Big rolling coasters of waves. The doctors have been busy handing out patches / pills / and melt-on-your tongue anti-nausea meds. Most people are attempting hibernation for the duration, lying flat with eyes closed is usually the best medicine. Dr Brandee and myself have offered to do roomservice medicine, for those too crummy to attempt to stand upright. A new concierge medicine service, unique for the last desert.
 
The boat ride is the reality of getting  to the bottom of the world. While great to hang with so many great people, Iam ready to be home. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, and a bit melancholy to not be with my family.I am hoping they raise their glasses for the prodigal son, and toast health and happiness for the family, what more can we all wish for right?
 
The sky is getting greyer, the waves a little bigger, and things are likely going to get interesting in the next 12 hours or so. Happy thanksgiving.
 
Grant – the bloging doc

We have finally arrived in Antaectica proper. Have been travelling constantly Southward, downward, going further and further away from...everything. Like an Antarctic Kurtz in my own personal Apocalypse now. Not heading up the river, rather into the face of the storm and the maw of a world that is not compatable with humna life.
 
Yesterday was a big day. We arrived after a hellacious journey from King George Island to our day's race a Deception Island. The transit was marred by many large waves tossing us from side to side. The dinner tables were sparsley populated, I had to get up quickly and head to the head / then to bed as seasickness got the better of me and got sick for a few hours. Before that, I  was able to hand out meds and even had the assistance of Mike Sammis who was a fantastic messenger and navigated the twisting fun house passegers with ease. The major morbidity of the trip is seasickness. Ususally lying on your back with eyes shut works pretty well. Medical team came packing heat to make people feel as well as possible. Dr. Brandee had it very bad.. I made a house call, and found poor Dr. Brandee sick as a dog. I pulled a syringe and needle out, and  mainlined her right arm with strong intravenous nausea medicine - it was like a scene out of Traffic.
 
THe runners rallied ,and we spent the day yesterday running a loop in this enormous caldera, an old volcano with geothermal vents and steam ccoming out of the beach. Inquisitive penguins. The athletes powered through 2.5 km loops. In true Antarctic tradition the weather moved in by 4.45p ( we had all been up since 3.45a), and by the time I was on  a zodiak heading back to the boat, facing 60+ MPH gusts with blinding snow. All this after an afternoon of bright sun. Ashlie, I did remember my sunblock and even reapplied!
 
Had a 12 hour trip last night. And we are right down on the Antarctic continent. We just stopped in the middle of the channel to watch a pod of feeding Orcas and a few humback wales. We are surrounded by looming walls of rock and ice. glaciers everywhere coming down into the water. There is a level of austerity and uninviting bleakness that I have never witnessed. As a Wilderness Medicine doctor - I thrive in the idea of medical support out here. The competitors will be running for 8 or 9 hours today in possibly thigh deep snow. Old fashioned concepts of "evacuation" or "support" need not apply.
 
From the bottom of the world,
 
Grant the blogging Doctor

I was in a zodiak yesterday, zipping across the bay from our anchored ship towards the first day of racing. Bouncing across the waves I had Led Zepplin songs going in my iinner ear "I come from the land of the ice and snow, with the midnight sun and the harsh winds blow." As my wife can attest, I can't sing a lick....however it seemed fitting and excited to step foot on my 7th continent. Getting here was no easy journey. The 2 day trip on moderate seas with constant swishing motion left many people queesy. Handed out lot's of antiemetics and gave a few Liters of IV fluids and IV meds. The "Clinica" is incredibly well stocked with all the medicines and ampules that I could e ever possibly need. The only downside is that the meds are all in Spanish, not my native language So caution is the rule of thumb.Luckily,  everybody rebounded well to have a full contingent ready and willing to hit the beach on day 1.
 
Unique challenge of Antarctic racing, lots of cold and wet. Feet get frostbite, trenchfoot - a new kind of challenge outside the regular blister issues, which are usually minimized as cold causes constriction and the wet lubrication minimizes frction and resulting blisters. Dr. Brandee and myself are on constant vigil to ensure that concerning cases are under our surveilance and frequent reassesment, we don't want to lose any piggies. No race is worth that.
 
The landscape is harsh and unforgiving. Obviously no green. White and black with harsh seas and distant glaciers. Maybe it is the austerity of the surroundings, maybe it is the 2 days of boat travel after 26 hours in the air, or maybe just that I am head over heals in love with my wife who could not join me on this trip...but I feel more isolated here than anyother RTP event in the prior 5 years.
 
Will go get ready to bundle up and prepare for day 2. Another 11 hours of the blast chiller.
 
Best
 
Grant, the blogging doc