At the British Faraday Base on Galindez Island, I ask for help.
"Please, let me work here. I'm trying to leave the Antarctic, but the weather won't allow it—it keeps getting worse.
"I left a few days ago between storms, but the blizzard started again, and I had to turn back.
"Winter is coming soon, and Aomi will be buried under snow and ice. But I don't have enough food or fuel to survive it."
Martin, the base commander, appears to consider something for a moment before replying.
"Well... we can't just let you die."
"Is there any work I can do? Let me stay for six months until the weather stabilizes—until next summer."
But he looks at me with pity and says,
"We can't pay you a salary, and we have our own routines to follow. Some of our team members don't like visitors. Anyway, you'd better leave soon. The sea around the Antarctic coast will freeze over before long, making escape impossible."
"But even if I could escape the Antarctic before the sea freezes, there would be no guarantee that I could safely cross the early-winter Drake Passage and return to South America. The longer the nights grow with winter's arrival, the greater the risk of hitting an iceberg.
"Meteorological charts also show that storms with winds over force eight are four times more frequent in April and more than seven times in May than in February, the height of midsummer. Still, if I enter the Drake Passage...."
Tiny Aomi's average speed is only five to six kilometers per hour, making every journey slow and uncertain. The longer she stays at sea, the greater the danger of hitting icebergs and facing storms. But will Martin, staying safely on land, understand the fear of the foaming sea, white like a winter mountain—the fear of the rough waves rolling and crashing in my mind?
He says as if it were a matter of fact,
"It's better to hurry back to South America than to spend the winter here."
"But what if Aomi's engine breaks down tomorrow morning, for some reason, and I can't leave the Antarctic? Would you let me stay here until next summer as a humanitarian measure?"
"You shouldn't come to the Antarctic expecting to rely on the bases."
"..."
After leaving the base at midnight, I row my dinghy back to Aomi and switch on the light in the cold cabin, lost in thought.
For about five years since leaving Japan, I have risked my life sailing, trying to learn something essential to life from the sea that city life could never teach me.
While eagerly improving my sailing skills, I learned directly with my body about the sea—which covers 70% of Earth, a world where city people's common sense does not apply.
Immediately after leaving Japan, I experienced constant seasickness in the North Pacific. The trade winds made me lose all sense of time. In the Chilean Archipelago Sea, I sailed in fear of the reefs and strong winds.
Yet even when I landed on Cape Horn, and even when the mast broke, leaving me drifting on the open ocean, I overcame the difficulties by myself and continued sailing without giving up. Whenever I hit a wall on my way to realizing my dream, I made my utmost efforts and used my ingenuity to overcome it somehow. But this time, I find myself relying on others too easily...
I knew that no one had ever sailed alone to the Antarctic in a small boat of only 7.5 meters and that there was no guarantee of life, but knowing this, I prepared for the worst and set sail for the Antarctic. I was determined to sacrifice everything for my dream and had nothing to fear―This determination must remain unchanged even today.
Once again, I will try to sail Aomi north, finding a path through storms. Somehow, I will escape the Antarctic and set course for South America. Aomi and I may never return, but I will do whatever it takes.
Even if everything seems hopeless, if I keep trying without giving up, luck must come, and the impossible must become possible!
The next day, after reviewing my voyage plan and carefully inspecting the engine, I check the hull and sails for even the slightest sign of damage, making every possible preparation.
"This time, I will win for sure!"
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