Endurance: A Monologue
The freezing ocean batters my rudder as we race to the Antarctic ice. I have never been so cold. The ice pierces my wooden skin nevertheless I race on, determined to reach our destination. The tiny humans are scuttling around like ants, screaming instructions which I do not understand. All I know is, we are running out of time; we must arrive before the storm approaches.
The Atlantic stretches on before me, a vast open space of endless possibilities. As sharp as a knife, my keel cuts through the waves: unstoppable. Patiently, I wait for the men above to bellow ‘Land ahoy!’ It must happen soon- we’ve been sailing for days on end. On and on we go. It seems to never end (the cold and frosty wind still bites my sails).
Then finally it happens. ‘I see land! There it is boys!’ shouts the man at my figurehead. Ernest, I think I’ve heard the others call him. Relief rushes through my planks as I recognise that the race is nearly over. We are nearly there; just a few minutes more of this agonising pain!
CRASH- a loud rumble fills the ears of my ship. Suddenly, I am stopped dead. Oh no! I am stuck! I simply cannot go any further. The ice has captured my already cold keel and rudder. Desperately, I wriggle, trying to set myself free but it is no good- I cannot move. As the men on board realise, they disembark, digging and scraping at my base. They are unsuccessful; we are all stuck here. What are we going to do now?