Having vacated our secure spot in Jougla Point to go for a sail, it was with a slight sinking feeling that I spotted as we came round the corner to return that even a very light Southerly had been enough to push ice into the bay, and it was now choca. Not to worry, the skipper had a plan. It turns out the Skipper's plan was for the Mate to run a line all the way around the edge of the bay, and then attach each end to the back of Pelagic, who would then tow the ice out of the bay. I too had seen this manoeuvre performed to shift individual icebergs out of parking spots, but never for a whole bay-full. Needles to say that the Mate was rather dubious that this plan would work, but has learnt that sometimes it is best not to tell the Skipper these things. So off I plodded in the dinghy, contemplating how to get the blasted line round the bay. The best solution seemed to be to wade, knee deep in brash ice along the shore. It's probably best not to mention the large overhanging sn ow cornices I climbed under to get round, which in hindsight even I will admit was a silly thing to do. After much tying of bits of string to other bits of string in order to make them longer (and so that poor Ruth who was inevitably holding on to the shorter bit didn't get pulled out of the dinghy) we managed to get both ends on to Pelagic. As Dave hit the throttle, it briefly looked like our plan had failed, as the line bounced over a large proportion of the ice, but eventually it caught on one large bit right in the middle. It turns out that most of the ice was stuck to this one bit it and the whole operation was rather successful. Stage 2 of the plan, which I must admit I though of as the rather more ambitious part, was to, in the skipper's words' "Drive the bow onto the beach, and shut the door behind us" [by running the Charcot line across the entrance of the bay] before any more ice could blow in, and then run the lines before we ended up shipwrecked on the beach. He wasn't kidding, he really did drive the boat up the beach, ah the joys of a lifting keel. Despite my doubts the whole operation worked seamlessly, the boat came into the bay, the line went across behind them and the mooring lines were run out at speed straight after. Full credit where it is due, sometimes its good to attempt an ambitious plan. When I pointed out that my zodiac driving ability didn't fall to bits under pressure, as it does usually, Dave even admitted that he was "very impressed." That might be the nicest thing Dave has ever said to me.

We were just indulging in a bit of self-congratulation as we tidied up the lines on deck when Ruth appeared and royally burst our bubble by uttering the heart stopping words "Not to add to your preoccupations but, where is the plunger?". There followed a distressing period of 22hours where the heads was out of action. I'll obviously spare you the details, needless to say to save Ruth's embarrassment that the problem was mainly due to an underlying calcifcation issue and not user error on Ruth's part, but it took a lot of man hours to fix. In the mean time we were forced to resort to either the �"bucket and chuck it'' method, or depending on your preference, the �"bum over the side method'. Take it from me, exposing your bottom to a blizzard in -3 degrees is not something to be repeated too often. Despite Dave and Ruth doing all the really dirty work, I had the dubious pleasure of being the one who managed, around 6pm the following evening, to declare the heads fit for use. Fina lly we had have a working pump, which more importantly didn't leak black water on the heads floor. A situation to be avoided. See, its not all sitting around in deck chairs drinking teaÉ

Sad to say that our day out filming marked one of our last in Antarctica on this first leg of the charter and so I'm actually writing this from the Drake Passage. Dave, Andrew and I are safely underway, leaving Ruth behind to turn the awesome foresome of Lockroy into the Famous Five.

We desperately wanted to say a proper goodbye to the Ladies Of Lockroy, who have been so good to us over the past month. Suspecting they might be a bit frazzled after back to back cruise ship visits on Saturday night, and they might appreciated a proper feed, rather than another tin of curry, Dave packaged up a slow roast beef (and all the trimmings) and we headed over to the Nissen hut. Not only was the skipper out to impress with his culinary skills, but he was also clean, a rare treat. As the only young, single, male on Goudier Island (excluding cruise ship visitors) I'm not sure the bar to impress needed to be set quite so high, but we suspect that Dave has made quite an impression on one or two of the Lockroy residents. Once again, thanks for all your help girls, and thank you to the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust for everything they have done for us.