by Hazel Prior
“Right you are. So . . . so it’s a reminder of what? If you don’t mind me asking.” She is wearing her nosy expression.
I sigh. I do mind her asking, if truth be told, but unfortunately, I am going to have to take her into my confidence. Worse still, I am going to require her assistance.
I inform her that I am planning to take a trip to the South Shetlands.
“The Shetlands!” she said, giving an exaggerated shiver. “Goodness, Mrs. McCreedy! You are full of surprises. What a strange holiday destination! But at least you’ve decided on the South Shetlands. Not quite so cold as the north ones, I imagine.”
“No, Eileen.” I am going to have to explain it to her in words of one syllable. “The South Shetlands are a completely different group of islands, not the ones near Scotland.”
She is wearing the nonplussed expression now.
“They are in the Southern Hemisphere,” I inform her.
“Oh well, that’s all right then. They’ll be a lot more suitable, I should think.” She grins. “Nice and exotic. Full of golden beaches and palm trees, no doubt. I thought you’d gone crazy for a moment there, Mrs. McCreedy!”
She is still in need of elucidation. “The South Shetlands are in Antarctica,” I tell her.
It takes some time to convince her that I am serious, along with many assurances that, yes, I am absolutely in possession of my marbles.
When this Herculean task has been completed, I ask if she would be willing to use her computer know-how to send an e-mail to the field camp where Robert Saddlebow stayed on Locket Island.
“I believe you can find the correct address by means of a blog, if you use your googly whatsit?”
“Oh, I see. Yes, Mrs. McCreedy, quite likely I can. Websites do usually have a contact option. It should be possible, if you’re really sure that’s what you want.”
“Have you ever known me not to be sure about anything?”
“Well, no, Mrs. McCreedy, but . . .” She mumbles something I can’t catch. People nowadays never speak clearly enough. However, I do not ask her to repeat it. I feel fairly certain I am not thereby losing any great gems of wisdom.
Once we have located my glasses (they have somehow ended up on top of the fridge), I write down all the details on a piece of paper, because I have found this is the best way to convey precise instructions to Eileen. She knows I am absolutely in earnest whenever I do this.
My mind returns to the penguins. I have charged myself with an important and worthwhile undertaking. I am feeling rather pleased.
• 11 •
Dear Scientists,
Having recently watched Robert Saddlebow’s television program featuring your project, I am deeply impressed by your research into the Adélie penguins of Antarctica. As a keen admirer of your mission to protect the species—and as an advocate of conservation in general—I have decided that, should your work prove to be as invaluable as it currently appears, your research is likely to inherit a considerable sum of money as defined by the terms of my will. I am therefore intending to visit your site in the near future to furnish myself with further information and to ensure that your work is worthy of such a substantial sum. I shall bring provisions and necessities with me, but I will require a bedroom for three weeks (preferably en suite) and would wish to join you in your studies and penguin observations as much as is convenient.
Yours faithfully,
Veronica McCreedy
Note.
Hello. I am Eileen Thompson (Mrs.) and I’m Mrs. McCreedy’s daily helper. Mrs. McC has asked me to send you this message because she doesn’t do e-mail. Mrs. McC is pretty good mentally, but she does often change her mind, so I’d not worry too much and take it all with a pinch of salt if I was you.
Best wishes,
Eileen Thompson
Dear Mrs. Thompson,
Thank you for your e-mail. I would be grateful if you would forward this reply to Mrs. McCreedy with our compliments.
Many thanks and warmest regards,
Dietrich Schmidt
Dear Mrs. McCreedy,
We are delighted to have your support and very pleased that you are interested in our work concerning the Adélie penguins.
However, conditions in the camp are cramped and extremely basic with few facilities. We have little in the way of hot and cold running water, let alone an en suite bedroom. Whilst we would be delighted to meet you, we would be unable to host you as you suggest.
I am attaching a fact sheet about Adélie penguins that may be of interest to you, and of course any contribution toward their protection, now or in the future, would be more than welcome.
With many thanks for your interest,
Dietrich Schmidt
Penguinologist and head of the Locket Island team
I’m sorry, Mr. Dietrich, to bother you again, but Mrs. McC has insisted that I e-mail you again with this message.
Yours, Eileen
Dear Mr. Schmidt,
Thank you for your prompt and efficient reply. As I mentioned before, your project will benefit by an eventual seven million pounds assuming I am satisfied with my stay at your research center. I have now booked my flights to King George Island and my passage thence by boat with Blue Iceberg Ferries. I shall arrive at Locket Island on 8 December at 8:30 a.m. I would be most grateful if you could send one of your helpers to pick me up and escort me and my luggage to your research center. Please do not concern yourself about my needs. Having lived for the last fifty-three years (out of my eighty-six) on the west coast of Scotland, I have developed a certain toughness and can easily put up with uncomfortable conditions. Eileen has looked up temperatures on your island and tells me that during your Antarctic summer they hover around freezing point, which is not significantly lower than December here in Ayrshire. I shall, of course, pay for my food and lodging while I am with you. A luxury apartment in London, I am reliably informed, costs approximately £400 a night to rent. I shall therefore pay you at a rate of £400 per twenty-four hours of my stay. You mention conditions are basic, so I have no doubt this will more than cover your costs and any inconvenience of having an extra person residing at your research center. I am happy to cover any other unforeseen expenses involving my visit. I will bring with me all my necessary medications and any creature comforts I need.
I am indebted to you and look forward to my stay.
Yours sincerely,
Veronica McCreedy
Dear Eileen,
We are alarmed and concerned at Mrs. McCreedy’s most recent e-mail. While we are extremely grateful for her magnanimous proposal, we cannot host her for three weeks. We are, in fact, not in a position to host anybody, let alone a person of advanced years. Although we have very occasional visitors on Locket Island, this is not a tourist destination, and we are busy every day with our surveys and research. I do not doubt that Mrs. McCreedy’s intentions are generous, and the money she promises is startlingly so, but please could you impress upon her that her plan is simply not practical.
With kind regards,
Dietrich and the Locket Island team
Dear Mr. Schmidt,
I’m very sorry. I really thought Mrs. McCreedy would change her mind. She usually does, but this time she seems quite stuck on it. It’s no good trying to stop her doing anything; it just makes her even more determined. But please, don’t worry. It’s true she is very tough. And ninety percent of the time she is really very on the ball, so I’m sure it won’t be a problem. It’s only for three weeks.
Dear Eileen,
Does Miss McCreedy have any relatives we could communicate with by e-mail? We cannot, of course, prevent her from coming but would certainly not wish to be held responsible for either her health or her happiness.
Kind regards,
Dietrich
Dear M
r. Schmidt,
She has only a grandson in Bolton, but they don’t see much of each other. Here is his e-mail address if you want it.
Dear Mr. Patrick (McCreedy?),
I expect you are aware that your grandmother, Mrs. Veronica McCreedy, has plans to travel to Antarctica with the express wish of visiting our camp. I understand she has already booked her trip, which concerns us greatly. She is welcome to come and look round the field center for an hour while she is here, but I would ask you to explain to her that a three-week or even overnight visit will not be possible, due to our lack of facilities.
Although it is always good when somebody shows concern for the future of our penguins and our scientific mission, we would be very aggrieved should anything untoward happen to her while she is out here. Mrs. McCreedy’s helper, Eileen Thompson, has assured us that she is “on the ball” ninety percent of the time, but that ninety percent may not be enough. I really think your grandmother can have no idea how tough it is here—the cold in itself would be a grave danger to anybody in advanced years, no matter how healthy they are.
I sincerely hope that you are able to dissuade her and explain the reasoning behind the fact that we cannot allow a prolonged visit.
Kind regards,
Dietrich Schmidt (penguinologist) and the Locket Island team
Dear Patrick McCreedy,
I am writing again as, having received no reply to my last e-mail, I am concerned that you didn’t receive it. Please could you contact us regarding your grandmother Veronica McCreedy as a matter of urgency.
Dear Eileen,
We have attempted to contact Mrs. McCreedy’s grandson without success. Please could you inform Mrs. McCreedy that we will be unable to host her on her visit to Antarctica, but we wish her a very pleasant holiday.
Dear Mr. Dietrich,
Sorry you didn’t manage to get through to Patrick. I don’t think it would of worked anyhow. Mrs. McCreedy is very set on the idea of going to see you and your penguins. I can’t change her mind, I’m afraid. She’s really quite independent and stubborn. When you meet her you’ll see. I’m sure everything will be fine.
Best,
Eileen
• 12 •
Patrick
BOLTON
NOVEMBER 2012
This weird thing happened recently. I had an e-mail in my inbox from some organization called penggroup4Ant. I don’t get many e-mails, so I was intrigued. I wasn’t going to risk anything, though. The fact is I had a massive problem last month because of opening a message from somebody I didn’t know. My computer got the wobblies big-time. Greg at the computer store took three weeks and £250 to sort it out. Never again, man. So I assumed this penggroup4Ant was spam and deleted it pronto. But the next week, lo and behold, another message from penggroup4Ant. I deleted it again.
Anyhow, this evening I’m making myself a con carne. I’ve just finished slicing chiles when I get this phone call from Granny Veronica’s carer—or whatever you call her. The busybody called Eileen. Burbling on and on about some plan of Granny’s to go on a long voyage. I didn’t wash my hands before answering the phone, and the chiles are making my fingers sting. I could do with ending the call quickly, but this Eileen doesn’t stop for breath. Her voice gets higher and higher.
“Mrs. McCreedy’s got a fixation about it. It’s all to do with something in a box she found. She hasn’t been the same since. I know she can be a bit erratic at times, but this is very worrying. Sorry to trouble you with it, but you’re her grandson and, really, I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve never seen her so keen about anything. And I expect you’ve realized it about her already—she’s an unstoppable force. She’s completely set her heart on going to Antarctica. And it’s no good my trying to argue. You know what she’s like. If you say that she can’t do something, it just makes her all the more determined to do it.”
“Hang on a mo. Whoa. Slow down!” I cry. “You’re saying Granny is going to Antarctica?”
“Yes, that’s what she’s planning.”
I burst out laughing.
There’s a shocked pause from Eileen, then: “You have to try and stop her. Please.”
This is getting surreal. Granny McC was OK mentally when I saw her, but I’m no expert. Either way, I can’t believe Eileen thinks it has anything to do with me.
“Well, she’s a free agent, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders even though she can’t see me.
“You have to do something!” she pleads. I’ve never met this Eileen woman, but I picture her as a squat, worried sort of a person in an apron, wringing her hands.
I’m baffled. Antarctica? I know money’s no problem for Granny, but Antarctica? Not exactly your normal holiday destination.
“Why Antarctica?” I ask.
“Penguins!”
“Penguins?”
“Penguins!”
I wait for further information. Eileen doesn’t need extra prompting. “She’s got messages about penguins written all over the bathroom mirror! And she made me contact the penguin people. She saw this TV program about penguins. She’s obsessed with penguins. She wants to save them. But before she saves them, she wants to see them.”
“I’m sorry. You’re not making sense at all.”
There’s an impatient, huffy sound down the phone. “She’s gone and made me get her a ticket for the flights and ship and everything. I thought it would be OK, but the scientists say it isn’t. It really isn’t. You can’t just go there. But she thinks she can. She thinks she can save the penguins from extinction if she . . . well, it’s to do with money . . .”
Eileen’s voice suddenly goes fainter, as if she’s realized or remembered something.
“I just thought you might be able to stop her,” she mutters.
“Why the hell would she listen to me?”
“Because you’re her grandson. Her one and only grandson. You have to try!” she wails.
It’s hard to reason with her. “What does it matter if Granny goes or if she doesn’t?”
“The scientists!” Eileen gasps. “They say conditions are impossible. For anyone, let alone an old lady. She made me send them an e-mail saying she was going out there, but they e-mailed me back saying she mustn’t. She really mustn’t. Then she made me send them one back saying she was going to anyway and not to worry, but clearly they are worrying. I gave them your e-mail address. Haven’t you heard from them?”
The penny dropped. Penggroup4Ant must be the scientists, trying to contact me, assuming I might be able to sway Granny in some way. I can’t help having another little chortle.
“This is no laughing matter,” Eileen scolds. “If something happens to her while she’s away with the penguins, I’d just never forgive myself!”
Eileen must be fond of Granny. I have to say I’m actually developing a sneaky bit of admiration for her myself all mixed up in the dislike. You have to admit it: the woman’s got gumption.
“Eileen,” I say. “Calm down. I’m sure it’ll be fine. She’s not going for long, is she?”
“Three weeks!” Said in a tone of total despair.
“Well, tell you what I’ll do. I’ll e-mail these scientist guys and say we’ll do our best. You can make sure she has plenty of warm clothes and, er, pills . . . and whatever else she might need, can’t you?”
“Yes, yes, but will you call her and try and persuade her not to go?”
My phone calls to Granny are not known for their success rate. There’s only been the one so far, and let’s face it, it went spectacularly badly.
“She’s already got the tickets, you say?” I ask Eileen.
“Yes.”
“Well, there’s no point then, is there? By the sounds of things, she’s off to the other side of the world, whether we like it or not.”
TERRY’S PENGUIN BLOG
6 December 2012
Penguins travel in many different ways. Most people think of a penguin upright and waddling, and that is how they’ll sometimes get about when on land. Their tough feet have a kind of natural crampon that helps them move over snowy and stony terrains. But they’re not stupid, and they also know how to exploit the slipperiness of the ice. Often they’ll flop down on their bellies and toboggan along at high speed. Tobogganing penguins always make me smile. I snapped this one while I was at the colony this afternoon. You’ll see how the flippers are tucked in to its sides and the feet stick out behind, propelling it forward with the occasional push. The laws of physics do the rest.
Of course, much of a penguin’s life is spent at sea. Perfectly streamlined, these guys dive in and out of the waves with flawless timing, flippers acting as the ideal combination of fin and wing. Under the water they are real masters of movement. They swoop, they soar and they perform incredible acrobatics. They can stay underwater for fifteen minutes without a breath, then they’ll shoot out from the surface in a great arc like a dolphin. Sometimes they grab a breath before the next underwater sortie, or sometimes they’ll carry on porpoising in and out of the waves. It’s a magnificent sight. It really does look like they’re doing it out of pure joy.
• 13 •
Veronica
EN ROUTE TO ANTARCTICA
DECEMBER 2012
I used to enjoy traveling. I have mixed feelings about it now. My late ex-husband whisked me away to several exotic destinations when we were in the first flush: San Francisco, Florence, Paris, Monaco and Mauritius. It was tolerably pleasurable at the time but, alas, those memories have been tainted by what happened in the relationship since. I have not bothered with traveling at all in recent years. I have no issue with the actual flying. It is more the close proximity of so many people that disturbs me.
