LAST DAY

I am so excited about going home – probably the best thing about going away, however amazing the place, is always coming home. It just makes you appreciate it. (We’re flying tomorrow morning at 9am). ZIPPPA DEEE DOOO DAAAAA.

Things I Will Miss

The stunning landscape – with all of its ever-shifting moods.
The amazing natural phenomenon – the northern lights, the sunsets, solar spikes, sun dogs, the 80 mph blizzards and the awe inspiring sun rises - that take your breathe away almost every time you venture outside.
The incredible light, that is ever present.
The fresh, crisp, clean air – that wakes you up and turns into frost on your lashes.
The crazy machinery and hi tech gadgetry.
Sam and our intense games of chess and weird banter.
The rough necks who are our mates.
The fridge full of V8.
The cool arctic gear we wear.
The million different types of snow and ice that are everywhere.
The way the spin drift snakes across the ground like low flying fog.
Big Bird – the camp supervisor, and insane, anglophile granddad. (Named after the Sesame street character.)

An Aside About Things I Can’t Wait to Do.

To see Kel (that has to go first):
To have a bath
To see my family and friends – especially my Mum.
To drink out of a proper cup that isn’t polystyrene
To have a cup of tea that’s not been microwaved and doesn’t taste of shit.
To use a toilet that actually flushes and isn’t basically a plastic bag.
To be able to eat my breakfast without having to make some inane conversation with an overly friendly American who’s had too much coffee.
To sleep in my own bed.
To cook my own food.
To have a fresh fruit smoothie.
To go for a run in Battersea park in the spring sunshine.
To go outside without having to put on fifty different items of clothing.
To have a beer.
To play pool.
To set foot in England.
To have my mobile work again.
To access the net whenever…
To be able to contact people with ease
To be able to go to the corner shop, if I want to.
To read a newspaper (even if its the daily mail)
To play squash or golf.
To go to the cinema.
To ride my bike to work.
To not to worry about whether I’m missing anything I should be filming on the rig.
To be able to speak English and be understood.
To be able to go for a piss without having to march down the entire length of the camp to the toilet.

An Aside About Hours at Noatek Camp

Every time I walk down the corridor, there always seems to be some shift just waking up. Whatever the time of day there are a couple of zombies in the canteen chowing down whatever’s going at the time for breakfast. (Whether it’s sloppy joes or chillie corn dogs – for them its breaky. Yeuch.) And, similarly, there are always people asleep or going to bed.

This is because the ruffneck night shift starts at 12 am and finishes at 12pm and the day shift which is vice versa. Then there’s the 8 other subcontracting companies who all do different hours, which never sit with a normal 9 – 5. And then there’s us who do whatever hours we need to do that day depending on who or what we’re following. It’s all very bizarre. People staggering around half awake, saying good morning to people who’ve just got off shift and are wide awake, who say good evening back - it being their evening time - and then there’s almost always some guy who should be in bed fast asleep, who’s just staring at the desserts in the fridge. Spaced out, hungry and unable to sleep. No one seems to know what time, it should really be. It’s kind of like living with 60 people who are all in small, heavily jet lagged tribes wearing their matchin company gear, all living in different time zones in the same tiny space. ODD.

This can lead to some problems. The magnetic safety stop for the running machine, suddenly disappeared the other day. It was blatantly half inched by a ruffneck on nights who couldn’t sleep, because of people running during the day. It’s since been replaced by a magnet, the real one probably buried in the snow somewhere in the tundra. I’ve been trying to run at shift change over times since. (but I’m not the only runner.)

12th Feb (day 31)

Hmmmmmm. Had a lovely long lie in ‘til 10.15.

Got some shit done last night – but not as much as we’d hoped. Robbie wasn’t going up the derrick ‘til 4 or 5 am so we hit the hay around 2.30. We decided to risk getting our last pick ups on the last night. A bit chancy, but should be OK as long as the rig doesn’t break down.

Did manage to film Brandon, the worm, who’s hat they graffited, getting dressed in the mud room with the other roughnecks. I was expecting a huge rumpus when he noticed, but he doffed his hat and walked straight out. For at least half an hour he wondered round the rig totally oblivious to the huge worm scrawled on his helmet. When someone finally told him I chanced to be filming him at the time and he looked like he was about to burst into tears as he desperately tried to scrub it off with spit and his fingers!!!!!! (I felt kind of sorry for him, even though he is a very annoying, classic American geek. Besides he’s been going on about how he expects to be ‘wormed’ and he’ll deal with it. And also how he did it to the ‘worms’ in the lumberjack business he does in Summer – so I guess he deserves it). It was even funnier when he started debating with Tommy how he thought Billy had done it and how he was gonna fix him – altho of course it was Tommy all along. All very childish, I know, like being at school, but in a place this remote, I guess you’ve got to make your own amusement. Good to film, too.

Also filmed the sample collecting – which was kind of interesting….sort of….. The shake room is great – very warm and cosy. Plus the whole room vibrates, so much that your inner ears tickle and you feel like you’re being massaged all over. And the shakers bounce the mud and slop from the hole, so vigorously that you get these amazing intereference patterns in the liquid as the grit slides along a conveyor belt. Very relaxing room. And fun to film arty GVs in.

Saw THE MOST AMAZING Northern Lights last night, too. Not just shimmering, but swirling and spiralling right above my head, and out across the entire night sky – in definite, but subtle shades of silver, green and red. And really fast, too. Looks like bright sunlight from underwater, diffused into rays like tentacles. You can see each ignition, spread across the sky, and the patterns fizz and reshape continuously. Really started to feel dizzy and disorientated watching after a while, and very hypnotised – really unbelievable – nearly fell over. Very trippy indeed. Alien and beautiful.

Spent most of today script writing, while Sam logs. (I’m missing my edit prep week, so I figure it’s best to get the script done here. In the edit straight off next week.) Kind of strange to be on location writing the script. Especially when the program is so far form the reality. I’m still filming with the people I’m turning into fictional characters back in my room. Odd job.

I find the scripts easier to write if you ventriloquise in a very cheesy American accent. (See first draft of opening below).


24 hours of darkness………80 mile an hour blizzards…………and temperatures of over 100 below – this is The North Slope of Alaska.

Situated within The Arctic Circle, it is one of the most extreme environments on the planet.

With the quest for oil pushing men and machines to ever greater extremes, the remote regions of The North Slope have become the target for a daring new, exploratory drilling mission.

It’s a mission that’s gonna push one team of drillers to the very limits of human endurance.

See, told you it was cheesy. Try it with an American accent – bizarrely enough it makes more sense!

11th Feb (Day 30)

Woke up early to film our night shifters changing the drill bit and stuff. However, they’re such dossers that they drilled deliberately slowly so that they could leave that to the other shift.)

It’s interesting that the best characters tend to be the dossers. Maybe it’s just that I relate to them better? Who knows? Anyway, net result was that we didn’t get much out of them – except a relatively straight forward changing of the pipe.

This did mean getting Robbie up the derrick, which looked kinda cool in the fog, but won’t cut with our main action scene (which was shot at night). However, it will make for a good “they’ve finally started drilling” scene. Kevin has his feet on the desk saying he loves drilling largely cos you can put it on auto – which is amusing.

The hands got all being coy about doing high fives for us which is a shame. (Cheesy hi five for the ending are a must. Sad but true.) But apparently roughnecks are too cool for hi fives. Shame. But don’t blame ‘em.

Got in for a huge slab of rib eye by 11am – that’s what being a roughneck (even an honorary one) is all about !

Did a funny sequence with Robbie and Tommy using an indelible marker to scrawl ‘pacto power’ and ‘worm’ on the new kid’s helmet. (Pacto are the plastic bag like porta potties we have to use. Some people call them, the cookie monsters, because of the way the mouth snaps open and closed as you pump.)

Made it to the lake to try and salvage our B Story. It was a really clear day and the tundra looked exactly like an ocean of waves that had been frozen mid swell, stretching on and on forever, Beautiful.

Filmed a bit with Woody who was – like his name – Wooden. But did a serviceable job. Turns out Bobbie is back in two weeks (after being here for 12!!!!) so we should be able to film him watching the herc land when someone ??? Returns around 15th March (hopefully not me).

Been worrying about Kel – cos she went to a big party this Sat (Charlie girl’s bday) – and I know she’ll have gone nuts and put herself through guilt hell Sunday night. And hate next week. When I finally managed to blag my way onto someone’s computer, sure enough, Kel had been up ‘til 9am and was in bad way – not helped by some bad news. Need to get back home asap – really missing her at the mo’.

Feel that its time to go in my bones – the shifts are all changing and the rig is covered in people we don’t even know (except our main crew) and the filming’s pretty much done. Out of here on Tuesday – been here 3.5 weeks though. LONG LONG LONG time to be stuck in the middle of absolutely, nowhere in a tiny camp with one long corridor and a bunch of strange Americans.

Started writing the script and am feeling kind of confident – although missing a few bits and bobs – we should be able to pick them up over the next two days.

Off filming late again tonight.

Talk tomorrow.

xR

11th Feb (Day 30)

Woke up early to film our night shifters changing the drill bit and stuff. However, they’re such dossers that they drilled deliberately slowly so that they could leave that to the other shift.)

It’s interesting that the best characters tend to be the dossers. Maybe it’s just that I relate to them better? Who knows? Anyway, net result was that we didn’t get much out of them – except a relatively straight forward changing of the pipe.

This did mean getting Robbie up the derrick, which looked kinda cool in the fog, but won’t cut with our main action scene (which was shot at night). However, it will make for a good “they’ve finally started drilling” scene. Kevin has his feet on the desk saying he loves drilling largely cos you can put it on auto – which is amusing.

The hands got all being coy about doing high fives for us which is a shame. (Cheesy hi five for the ending are a must. Sad but true.) But apparently roughnecks are too cool for hi fives. Shame. But don’t blame ‘em.

Got in for a huge slab of rib eye by 11am – that’s what being a roughneck (even an honorary one) is all about !

Did a funny sequence with Robbie and Tommy using an indelible marker to scrawl ‘pacto power’ and ‘worm’ on the new kid’s helmet. (Pacto are the plastic bag like porta potties we have to use. Some people call them, the cookie monsters, because of the way the mouth snaps open and closed as you pump.)

Made it to the lake to try and salvage our B Story. It was a really clear day and the tundra looked exactly like an ocean of waves that had been frozen mid swell, stretching on and on forever, Beautiful.

Filmed a bit with Woody who was – like his name – Wooden. But did a serviceable job. Turns out Bobbie is back in two weeks (after being here for 12!!!!) so we should be able to film him watching the herc land when someone ??? Returns around 15th March (hopefully not me).

Been worrying about Kel – cos she went to a big party this Sat (Charlie girl’s bday) – and I know she’ll have gone nuts and put herself through guilt hell Sunday night. And hate next week. When I finally managed to blag my way onto someone’s computer, sure enough, Kel had been up ‘til 9am and was in bad way – not helped by some bad news. Need to get back home asap – really missing her at the mo’.

Feel that its time to go in my bones – the shifts are all changing and the rig is covered in people we don’t even know (except our main crew) and the filming’s pretty much done. Out of here on Tuesday – been here 3.5 weeks though. LONG LONG LONG time to be stuck in the middle of absolutely, nowhere in a tiny camp with one long corridor and a bunch of strange Americans.

Started writing the script and am feeling kind of confident – although missing a few bits and bobs – we should be able to pick them up over the next two days.

Off filming late again tonight.

Talk tomorrow.

xR

10th Feb (Day 29?)

Spent four hours filming new shift ‘spud in’ (start drilling) – god it was boring. And all the while I couldn’t help thinking about all my friends at Charlie-girl’s birthday getting fucked up without me. DOH! (It was Sat night in the UK.) The start of drilling should TV-wise be some climactic conclusion, but in reality is fucking dull as dishwater – and the new shift are lame to film. (To be fair we have only just met them and haven’t built any kind of relationship up yet). Out of four hours we’ll probably use 5 minutes, if that.

Went out late to film the night shifters, but despite being great characters they were doing sod all. Went to bed around 3 – after having tried to make a sequence out of an electrical problem with the drilling, but it just wasn’t happening.

They told us they would be doing something interesting early in the morn so we went to bed for 5 hours kip.

Frustrating day.

Drilling sucks.

9th Feb (Day 28?)

Woke up at 10 this morning – sounds late but we only made it to bed at 3 after filming the food finally arrive, along with the diesel to power the rig, all on a convoy of rolligons.

Had a shower and bumped into Bobbie – our increasingly elusive key character for the B Story. He was showing his replacement around!!!!! Fucker, I knew something was up he’s been giving us the run around, not showing up for filming (despite giving his word) etc and now he’s leaving with very little warning. All of which kind of fucks our B Story. Think he may well have been sacked since the lack of herc runway has meant the rig has stalled for a week whilst waiting on diesel – and a week’s a long time and a lot of money in a $50 million operation. Now wonder he’s been avoiding us, kind fucks us over though.

No milk for breakfast – which is weird since supplies just showed up – but (thank god) orange juice, at last – so we’re not gonna die of scurvy or worse have to eat each other (but we are going tohave to eat dry cereals, it seems. Not sure which is worse.).

Our friend, Bill the chief gave us some of his secret stash of half and half for our cereals with the strict instructions to eat them in our room so no one else’d know!!!!!

Half way through breaky, got a call that a plane was waiting for us on the runway to do a special tour of the camp so that we could get our aerial shots – but that it would only wait half an hour. Hot footed it out there still chewing my cereal. Fuck it was the smallest plane I’ve ever seen, let alone been in. I’ve seen larger airfix models. In fact I’m not sure this wasn’t some kind of microlight. Actually it was a Cessna.

Wow – what a buzz – and what a day for flying. The pilot told us we’d never get better conditions on the slope. The sun was low in the sky, its typical, golden glow slanting across the flat, barren tundra. You could see from horizon to horizon, each little ripple in the ice desert caught in the shadows of the ever-setting sun. The pilot propped open the cockpit window – and banked round the camp 3 times and twice round the runway. A view like that really hammers home the remoteness of the location. Nothing, but ice for as far as the eye could see in every direction.

Desperate to get the shots, despite a wind chill factor of -100 plus (due to the 100mph wind against the plane) my hands got so painful and throbbing I could barely sit still. We had to wear full face gear and goggles etc….. but it was amazing. Such a rush. And so beautiful.

I love this place, will be so sad to leave – but there’s images I’ve seen here that will remain with me forever.

8th Feb (day 28?)

[Shot Robbie’s arriving sequence, and personal ivs – also did some great hero shots silhouetted by the low lieing sun.]

Noticed that there was no water left.

Interviewed the chef about the current food situation. Apparently due to bad weather and ‘logistical problems’ we haven’t had our food supplies turn up since last Saturday (almost a week ago!!!!)

“OHMIGODWE’REALLGONNADIE!”

There’s only enough food left for maybe a day, before we run out and we’re already out of bottled water!!!! This means having to drink the water pumped form a local lake, chlorinated and then run through the camp’s ancient plumbing (something which the camp sanitation guy told us not to do or risk a severe case of “the heebie jeebies”!) The fact that the water is distinctly yellow and tastes like shit isn’t reassuring. I filmed the chef cooking toasted sandwiches and showing me the empty storerooms. Mid interview, he kept asking the roughnecks to limit their portions, while they picked up their food from the canteen. None of them were too happy. One of the only things they have too look forward to is the food – and they need a massive amounts of calories to deal with working hard in these extreme conditions. The army’s ration kits for the arctic have almost 100 times the number of calories than their standard ration kits.

Moral is getting low.

Is this program going to turn into a documentary about cannibals?

Watched ‘Goodbye Lenin’ – not bad…….

Nicked one of the pick ups to go for a spin down the ice road with Sam to check out the Northern Lights from outside the camp. They tend to get obscured by strong light sources and the rig and camp are lit up like a dentist’s waiting room.

We were rewarded with the Best Northern Lights we’ve seen yet. They literally spread across the entire night sky and varied in colour from silver to green, even red, and they moved and rippled so fast your eyes could barely keep up. Absolutely stunning.

7th Feb (Day 27?)

Beautiful day.

Shot the group hero shot – reservoir dogs style; got a whole shift of workers to spread out and walk towards the camera carrying huge wrenches and sledge hammers etc all back lit and silhouetted by the setting sun, spin drift flowing like a river around their ankles – looks well cool.

Quite a relief to have this set up shot in the bag – its crucial, hard to organise and even harder to get right and there’s only a certain amount of time you can keep a group this size hanging around. It only takes up seconds of the program, but really help sets the tone. Looked well stylish. Altho with this back drop its hard to go wrong.

We also shot the JCB and snow blower clearing snow drifts. Looked fucking brilliant. Thick clouds of powdered snow being pumped into the air in powerful jets, standing out sharp against the brilliant blue sky. Spin drift whipped past around our ankles while the setting sun silhouetted the machines and gave them a lining of golden fire. Shadows so long and sharp they stretched out across the ice pad.

Mundane, but stunning.

An Aside About Industrious Americans

Have to say the US work ethic is psychotic. Everyone here works like a dog – the rolligon drivers’ hours – 24 hours on the trot and 5 hours sleep – don’t seem that unusual. A vast oil rig (plus accoutrments like vast hangar work shops, two 50 man camps and fuel depots, plus two runways and a mini airport control centre etc) have sprung up almost overnight. When we first arrived 3 weeks ago there was only a hole in the ground and that was half drilled – our camp didn’t even have a kitchen – now this place looks like another S.P.E.C.T.R.E base ready to wreak havoc up an unsuspecting world. Very impressive – especially when you consider that every single nut and bolt, 20 tonne steel tower and drill, and each toilet roll and bottle of water, has been ferried 100 miles across the arctic wilderness for 12 + hours on the back of a rolligon. There isn’t even a road out here.

The site is a hive of activity at all hours of the day and night – it never shuts down – not even for a second (except for the superbowl!!!!)

If it was left up to a bunch of British builders, they’d still be setting up the first camp kitchen so that they could take a tea break. And as for leaving it up to a bunch of Spaniards - they wouldn't even have got round to saying 'manana' yet. But I tell you I ‘d still far rather be a lazy European – I don’t care how much they get paid. (If you live stateside I can see that its worth it - The roughnecks get paid shit loads comparatively, although it’s a fucking harsh job, they get long holidays - maybe 5 times as long as the average US citizen who only gets 2 weeks a year.)

6th Feb [DAY 26]

Saw a solar spike and two sun dogs yesterday - the sun looked like a column of fire rising into the sky (the solar spike) and it was surrounded by two parts of an in complete rainbow to the left and right (the sun dogs). Amazing - looked like God was coming down from heaven. Apparently its quite common though - and signiifies changing weather - really stunning either way.

DAY 25 [Feb 5th]

5th Feb
Don’t remember much about today, except deciding to take a wonder with Sam out of the camp along the ice road in the evening. The moon was so bright and the surface of the ice road so freshly watered that its surface shone like the silvered back of a mirror. You could see the reflection of the rig in the road, almost as if you were looking in water. High up above, the northern lights hung down in flowing cascades, which swept in ripples across the sky. Starting right at the centre of the night sky, they seemed to drop to a point where you could almost reach out and grab them. Shimmering curtains made of stars.

Amazing!!!!

Re reading Northern Lights, too which just adds to the magical nature of this place. The book makes so much more sense, now I’ve been here and know how true it rings. I am certain Philip Pullman came up to the arctic to research, his descriptions are so spot on.

4th Feb CABIN FEVER

Shot a few important indoor scenes – going to bed, eating, arriving – etc….. Pretty non eventful, dull day – both Sam and I are finding the camp a bit claustrophobic. (almost everytime we go outside – its incredible and exhilarating, but you can’t stay out there for long.) Plus all the work on the rig is indoors and fairly dull at the moment, so not really worth covering, until they drill. And our main character for our B Story is proving very elusive. So we’re stuck in camp reading, playing chess, listening to music writing diaries and doing logs.

(We’ve had our email access restricted too, and there are no international phones so we feel very cut off.)

Nice to chill for a bit, but you do get cabin fever after a bit. I feel like I’ve spent a lifetime in our pokey room and walked up and down the never ending corridor an infinite number of times. (See pic). The toilet is right down the other end of the camp and there is just one very long (100m) corridor that leads to it. Drinking enough water to keep rehydrated you have to go the loo a lot – I’m sure I see this corridor in my sleep.

Could quite easily lose it up here – no wonder they keep the shifts down to two weeks usually. Especially when there’s no day light whatsoever. (We’ve already done 3!!!!!)

Got an email from my series producer asking me to finish up and go to Texas with no explanation whatsoever ? Told him we wanna stay for the spudding in (start of the drilling). Someone will have to return in 4/5 weeks time to get the end of the prog – the rig demob and loading onto a Hercules C130 before being flown off to its next exploratory location.

No way I’m going to Texas for another film – looking forward to editing this one in Soho too much.

3rd Feb (SUPER BOWL SUNDAY)

Set up a time lapse camera in the TV room for Superbowl Sunday and spent the rest of the day chillin’ – ran a bit and put my blog online – finally

DAY 21 - [1st Feb?]

Woke up to a beautiful day. However, we were warned the blows tend to last for a day or so, go dead calm for a day and then blow back the other way. So we’re waiting. Is this the eye of the storm?

Sure enough mid afternnon the wind starts picking up again, and by 5pm is back up to 40mph.

Managed to get a great scene in the can tonight. Robbie our key character was sent up the derrick for his first time on the north slope – the wind was blowing about 40mph and he had to climb out of the monkey house over a windwall to fasten a loose pannel. This basically involves hanging precariously by a thread about 100ft in the air in the middle of a blizzard – no joke.

We got some great build up, as his mentor briefed him and warned him about the life threatening risks, and some even better reaction shots from the guys on the derrick floor watching. Sam went up with him (using a harness) and got some shots form the monkey house itself. Should make for a very dramatic scene – especially since we’ve been building up Robbie throughout the program. This will work well as his climactic scene of redemption, after his struggles to cope before.

The atmosphere was tense, which is suprising because usually these guys are very blasé about any danger at all and totally play down in a very macho fashion.

Big relief to have a decent climactic scene in the can – once you’ve got that it’s a lot easier to work backwards. Robbie and his fellow roustabouts were great, too - loads of grit and unselfconscious swearing whilst hanging off the derrick. The driller, Kevin, 100ft below on the derrick floor – was even better. He’s one of those people who know exactly how much bullshit TV consists of and is happy to serve it up without even being asked. He has a healthy disregard for the reality of the situation, and will say anything to get on TV. Our favourite kind of contributor. He comes up with brilliant soundbites about how desperate the situation is and how much danger they are all in – perfect - , so camped up for the camera that it almost seems like a piss take. And eventhough you think it might be maxing out the cheese-o-meter, in actual fact - nothing, bar nothing - is too cheesy or OTT for US Discovery. Fuck reality, what do you think this is a documentary or something?

Unfortunately, the camera I had on the ground was fucking up in the cold – the usual dirty heads message – and there’s some drop out, which sucks. I couldn’t get the wides from off the rig that we needed and badly wind nipped my ears trying – very frustrating.

These guys were on the nightshift, though and it meant staying up ‘til 3 am or so to get it. We almost went to bed exhausted before they even started, but a bit of coffee and determination saw us through. (Hours out here are weird now we’re trying to cover both day and night towers – 12am -12pm – 12am.)

Got back to camp and checked the helmet cam we sent up on Robbie and found it hadn’t recorded a thing. DOH! Wonder if we can send him up again?

Still went to bed well chuffed, highly exhilarated and dead beat.

DAY 20 (cont) - BLIZZARD: PHASE 3 SHUT DOWN

Well, its official we've got a Phase 3 shut down. No one's allowed out of the camp for non essential work. The whole camp is rattling with the wind now, and its sounds like someones got a sledge hammer and is battering away outside my wall (the shutters are a bit loose.) Snow is piling up at the windows and doors so much so that, we can barely see or get out. People are on full time duty digging out the emergency exits, we're getting so snowed in. (this makes it a little bit claustrophobic - could we actually just blow away?) but also exhilarating. Its best not to think about how all our lives are relying on a couple of tiniy generators - and god knows how much fuel they have !!!! cos nothing's coming in or out until this blizzard (80 mph + winds) stops.

Worse no supplies or medi vac either - not even a 12 hour rolligon to civilization. God knows how much food we have - but apparently, the blows never last more than 5 days. And we should be able to survive that.

If we do run out food I've decided to eat the night chef first - she looks quite tasty.

.....and still the wind howls.

DAY 20 continued (Arctic Fashion: An aside about seriously cold weather gear.)

The colder it gets it seems, the more extreme and bizarre the clothing out here gets. Most of the guys wear huge rubber boots for starters with obligatory rubber and metal ice studs attached, massive company sallopets and jackets (if they’re riggers) or their own companies if they’re from one of the other 5 sub contracting companies out here. This array looks pretty bizarre in its own right, turning even the most skinny person into Michelin man, but it’s the face/head wear that really gets you. Helmets are adorned with hundreds of stickers (the riggers are like kids with sticker books, I kid you not. Collecting and incredibly proud of the stickers they get given from each job and company. We get well hassled for Discovery stickers, I tell you. They would do anything for them. Unbelievable how childish some of these great hulking macho men can be.)

Then there’s the masks – some of them have half neoprene masks that just fit over mouth, chin and neck – these look a bit disconcerting, kind of cyborg or dirt biker ish – with just multiple little holes instead of a mouth; others have full face with just eye and mouth holes. The mouth hole is usually a triangular downward flap open at the bottom - which looks a bit like a beak - but effectively stops the wind hitting your mouth. These are the ones that are seriously frightening. They look like a cross between the elephant man and Friday the thirteenth- they make any one look like they’ve stepped straight out of a horror film. On top of that they then put on goggles and multi coloured safety specs – very Mad Max and kinda cool.

Then there’s the icicle fashion craze, most people get frosty eyelashes pretty quick out here (you can feel them freezing together as your eyes water in the wind), some get frosty eyebrows if they’re particularly bushy, but the real genius look is the icicle moustache or beard. One guy who’s got a massive soup strainer was sporting a 2 inch icicle bogey off his ‘tache – no joke. (I just had to interview him, even if it’s a shit sound byte its worth it just for the record breaking ‘tash icicle.) Your mask inevitably ends up covered in a dusting of frost as the moisture from your breath freezes. Take off your sodden mask, wet from your panting, for a minute and try to put it back on and its gone from wet and warm to frozen solid. Similarly take a bottle of water outside and leave it in one of your outside pockets and with in 5 minutes its also frozen solid – no joke.

Obviously – we wear two pairs of gloves – one inner / one outer – all the time, quite often with hand warmers shoved down the ends to stop our fingers getting frostbite. Imagine operating a fiddly multitude of buttons on your camera in that. We’re also wearing inner long johns, fleece long johns and down sallopets, inner thermal top fleece top and massive down jacket. Silk sock liners, thick wool socks, - 100 degree inisulated boots. Full head neck and mouth covering face masks, goggles and I’m wearing my Russian rabbit fur hat with the jacket hood over the top. And guess what – it’s still fucking freezing !!!!!! (although I don’t have my snood – neck warmer – on.) Sorry I just had to get that word in.

Actually the gear is awesome – Sam and I – in our all black matching gear with gun leg holster style bags – look like Team Discovery. We’ve had lots of requests to leave stuff for people already.

Check out the photos and see for yourself.

It is also very time consuming. It takes about 15 solid minutes to get togged up anytime you want to get out – and if you forget something and have to do anything inside with your gear on – you start sweating in seconds. This is bad news because it means your heat transfer rate shoots up (water is a very good conductor) so you lose body heat way faster, when you do finally get outside.

DAY 20 continued : Feb 1 - (An aside about Spin Drift).

The computer’s still shaking as is the whole camp from the ferocious storm going on outside. It feels a bit as if we’re sheltering inside a discarded pilchards can from a full on hurricane ‘cept with shit loads of blinding snow thrown in for good measure. The door outside my room which leads to an anti chamber before opening on to the outside world is very draughty as are the windows even though the generator is pumping out serious heat. The anti chamber has almost entirely filled with snow already. The spindrift (or snow) here is so fine, light and moisture free, (remember this place is a desert) that the snow blows into everything. Door cracks are easy, spin drift gets through sealed cool boxes – a guy told me a story about putting a mini cool box inside a large cool box and leaving it in the back of his pick up – both boxes were packed full of snow within 24hours! This shit gets everywhere. Apparently the wind can blow for 4 days solid here, moving the snow from one place to another en mass, creating 10 ft snow drifts and, sometimes burying entire camps, before the wind stops and there’s a day of calm, and then it picks up again, blowing in the opposite direction for another 4 days and blows the snow right back where it started from!!!!!!! I tell you this place is nuts. Other times a little chink in a camps’ seals can lead to an entire room being filled with snow from floor to ceiling almost over night !!! Nothing you can do ‘cept dig it out.

One things that’s cool is when you stand infront of a light you can see the twinkle of millions of icy particles flashing between you and the light. Take a picture with flash and it looks amazing.

Well, its official we've got a Phase 3 shut down. No one's allowed out of the camp for non essential work. The whole camp is rattling with the wind now, and its sounds like someones got a sledge hammer and is battering away outside my wall (the shutters are a bit loose.) Snow is piling up at the windows and doors so much so that, we can barely see or get out. (this makes it a little bit claustrophobic - could we actually just blow away?) but also exhilarating. Its best not to think about how all our lives are relying on a couple of tiniy generators - and god knows how much fuel they have !!!! cos nothing's coming in or out until this blizzard (80 mph + winds) stops.

DAY 20

Woke up this morning to feel the wall next to my bed shaking violently. Guessed it was the wind which was blowing about 45mph yesterday and was supposed to pick up. Sure enough, filmed the night shifters for chatting during their break straight after my meagre breaky and the wind was up to 70 / 80 mph !!!!! Got some great actuality of them shooting the shit about the horrific conditions and our lead character Robbie saying he really doesn’t want to go up the derrick. (Don’t blame him – who would want to climb a 100ft steel tower in that! Plus he’s limping bad from a fall on metal.) Filmed them all getting garbed up in their mad max masks and goggles, and filmed a couple leaving the camp. Oh my god. There were eight feet snow drifts that had appeared over night. You couldn’t even see the rig with the exception of a couple of very dim lights, and its only 75m away. In fact you couldn’t see jack shit, except swirling spin drift everywhere. Trying to walk through it is an adventure all of its own, its such a white out that you keep stumbling and falling over snow drifts, your goggles iced over – take ‘em off and you have sideways ice flying into your eyes. Every bit of skin has to be covered – or you risk frost bite fast. At this wind speed (80mph) and temperature (-20 f) you get an ambient temp of around minus 70 odd – and that means frostbite. The worst thing is that although it feels cold to start, after a little while the pain goes and you may think it’s warmed up. Unless you’ve started actively warming it or getting circulation back to it, this actually means that the nerves have died. First it’ll go white, like a burn, and then if it’s really bad it’ll swell up huge, before going black and withering up and ultimately dropping off – although they tend to amputate. NASTY.

Very nearly lost my hat filming up on the rig, whizzed off and I had make a dash after it. Fortunately, it fell behind a building and out of the wind, otherwise it would have been gonner for good.

Although, it sounds harsh this is exactly what we needed to liven the program up. To get a proper character arc we need to see our central characters develop and this is usually represented by a down period of particular struggle and difficulty. They need to go through this so that they can rise to it and come out triumphant – so that they can develop on screen (even if they don’t in life!) I guess its kind of the middle – in the beginning-middle-and-end story line. Actually in film terms there must be a name for it and it probably comes later – like 2/3rds through. Think of Rocky being beaten, before intensive training montage and coming back against all the odds to win at the end.

Yes, our programs on this series are that cheesy. Quite tricky getting reality to dance to your tune, but if you film enough of anything and you’ve got a good editor you can make it look like whatever you like. (I don’t feel too bad doing this, because you know we’re gonna make em all look like heroes in the end.)

Today was great, our lead man started cussing and swearing at his bosses, threatening to quit and absolutely hating it – perfect for us.

Now all we need is the triumphant overcoming when he successfully climbs the derrick to fix the rig, and all his critics come round and congratulate him. We’ll see if we get it naturally otherwise we may have to induce it.

Well its official we've got a Phase 3 shut down. No one's allowed out of the camp for non essential work. The whole camp is rattling with the wind now, and its sounds like someones got a sledge hammer and is battering away outside my wall (the shutters are a bit loose.) Snow is piling up at the windows and doors so much so that, we can barely see or get out. (this makes it a little bit claustrophobic - could we actually just blow away?) but also exhilarating. Its best not to think about how all our lives are relying on a couple of tiniy generators - and god knows how much fuel they have !!!! cos nothing's coming in or out until this blizzard (80 mph + winds) stops.