As best I can calculate each person in McMurdo uses seven utensils for every meal. The combinations of utensils would best be calculated using the fluctuating factorial “N.” Most commonly it’s described as plate, spoon, fork, knife, cup, tray, and bowl. However, for each person who doesn’t use a fork, knife or spoon (and there are many, because manners are not Antarctic prerequisites), their utensil count is taken care of by the cooks.
It takes pots and pans to prepare the food in the grub line and all of this has been taken into consideration with my calculation of “7.” On my first day of work, McMurdo Station had a population of 535. For some quick Antarctic math: 535 people times 7 utensils times 3 meals equals 11,235 pieces of cutlery that need to be cleaned by the dishwasher.
I’ve heard the expression “sink or swim.” Well, on my first day of work I was swimming in a sink full of dirty dishes. These egg, oatmeal and saliva encrusted cutlery were my ticket to Antarctica, so I jumped in with both hands inside rubber gloves and started cleaning.
The pot room was my first Antarctic task. This room could have been in the back of any all-you-can-eat restaurant in America. Nothing about this job said, “Antarctica.” What it did say was “manual labor.” In the pot room there are no clocks or windows, just an endless supply of over-sized cookware. In order to prepare food for over 500 people, the cooks use Paul Bunyan sized dishes. Spatulas are the size of canoe paddles and bowls are the size of satellite dishes. I was given one sponge, three sinks, a garbage disposal and an hour to clean.
The uninterrupting supply of pots and pans was only interrupted by my boss. She’d come into the pot room every few minutes and say, “Did you know you have dishes to clean in the front? Did you know it’s your job to vacuum? Did you know the tables need to be wiped?”
My boss said, “Did you know if you say ‘Did you know?’ before every sentence people won’t get mad when you approach them with a problem or a task?”
Does she know I can fit her down the garbage disposal?
By the time I faced the 11,234th dirty dish, the tables weren’t the only thing wiped today. Did you know my body was beat up?
This is it? This is my Antarctic experience? I got back to my room and wished I had been on one of the early Antarctic expeditions with Robert Scott. There could not have been this many dishes on The Discovery, the first ship to set up camp in what is now called McMurdo Station.
My roommate Joe, a man I’ve been randomly assigned as my roommate, has built a child-like fort above his bed with blankets and cushions and tonight he’s in his bat cave watching a porn, so I put on my headphones and read the book “Antarctica Unveiled.” It tells the story about Robert Scott and the ship The Discovery. If I couldn’t live a true Antarctic adventure, at least I could read about Scott’s first adventure in Antarctica. And, did you know, I read about my earliest predecessor? His name was Brett, a 36-year-old galley worker on board The Discovery.
At Hut Point, where I live, Brett refused to wash dishes because he was tired of the daily routines in the galley. There is not a definitive account, but I believe Scott said to Brett, “Did you know I won’t tolerate your behavior?” And, did you know, Scott then “handcuffed and lashed (Brett) to the windlass in the forecastle.” To his credit, Brett was able to escape, but with nowhere to run, he was recaptured and his punishment was to return to the galley.
I closed my book, took off my headphones and heard that Joe and his movie were close to their climax, so I put my headphones back on and realized that I am having an Antarctic experience. Tomorrow, like Brett, my punishment is back to the galley.
