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Source: ONE News -
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It all seemed like a bit of a joke. Everyone laughing about how on earth an insomniac would get enough sleep in a place where the sun never goes down. It's hard enough back home.
Over summer down here there is no night. No darkness. How do I convince myself its time for bed, when the sun is shining outside?
Sleeping in the daytime never really worked for me. There was always too much going on. Always the worry that something exciting was happening and I was missing out.
It's a bit the same here because hardly anything gets done in winter. They make up for lost time in summer. Often working double shifts to make the most of the sunlight. Scott Base never really sleeps, but that certainly doesn't work for me.
The evening starts with tea at tea-time. Then most people read, watch a DVD or spend a bit of time on the computer. There's a bar which closes about 10pm even though it's still light outside.
And at this stage most people head off to bed. We're in bunkrooms of course. There are four of us in my room. One woman is here to photograph penguins, another is doing some land mapping and I'm yet to meet the third.
So here I am on the top bunk snuggled under my duvet. The shutters are shut. My hat is pulled down over my eyes to make it dark. It's warm and cozy, but the sheep are nowhere to be seen. There's a bit of snoring, but to be honest I've endured far worse.
In the middle of the night my mind wanders back to a conversation about this very subject I had with my colleagues in the Christchurch newsroom.
Go on the internet they said "google is your friend" and they were right. There I discovered someone staying at the nearby American base with the same problem. "Sleepless in McMurdo" was seeking help.
Someone known only as Dr Penguin was dispensing advice. It all sounded very familiar. No caffeine close to bedtime. No chocolate. No nicotine. Don't be tempted by alcohol. Don't watch the clock. Try not to stress about not sleeping. Then it dawns on me. This particular insomniac is having trouble in winter which seemed rather odd. When it's dark 24/7 you'd think sleeping would be easy.
Dr Penguin goes on to re-assure "Sleepless in McMurdo" that he's not alone. Insomnia has "plagued Antarctic explorers since humans set foot on the ice."
But that doesn't really help me when the wee small hours are inching by and every minute seems like an hour. I won't be leading any grand polar expedition. I'm just a reporter worried if I don't get enough sleep, tomorrow will turn into a nightmare.
As thin shafts of light continue to fight their way through the gaps in the shutters I make a decision. The quickest, quietest way to deal with the problem now is a tiny blue pill. I've got exactly ten of them and use them sparingly. One for each night and a couple of extras. It seems much easier than clambering out of my bunk and waking everyone up as I head off to the kitchen for another hot milk. So a sleeping pill it is. Just one and finally my first day on the ice comes to an end.
