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As told to: Lauren Sams. Photography: Paul HameisterThree days after I was born, I stopped
breathing. The doctors at the hospital
assumed I was dead but they were
able to resuscitate me by pressing on
my chest. Then it happened again, and
again. Nobody knew what it was,
even though they ran a lot of tests to
find out. Eventually my parents and
I were sent home from hospital and the
doctors were sort of like, ‘Well, good
luck.’ It hasn’t been an issue since, luckily, but in a way I think
that it made me a survivor from a really young age. I’ve always
had to be pretty tough.
My family has always been really adventurous. My dad has
climbed mountains my whole life; he’s actually the 12th
Australian to climb all Seven Summits. So I think doing something
like that was always in the back of my mind.
When I was 12 my family did Everest base camp. I met this
amazing Icelandic woman who had skied to the Poles. As she
was telling me about it, I knew it was something I needed to
do. I don’t even really know why. I asked my dad first because
I knew he’d say yes, and my mum might not have. Not only did
he say yes, he told me he was coming with me.
Training for the trip was intense; I’d do five days a week at the
gym. On weekends I’d drag a truck tyre up and down the beach
to simulate what I’d have to do on the expedition. I had to learn
to ski, too – something I’d never done before. That probably
sounds weird, wanting to go to the North Pole not knowing how
to ski, but it didn’t really enter my head until I knew I was going.
Before the trip, I flew to the Tasman Glacier to get acquainted
with polar basics. That was definitely the hardest part of training;
it might have been the hardest part, full stop. Our guide, who’d
done the Poles before, put me in a crevasse and told me to get
myself out. I had a rope and some ice axes, and that was it.
I cried the entire time. Dad walked away, which sounds unfair
but he knew I’d ask him to help if he stayed, and of course he
couldn’t help me; if I couldn’t get myself out of this crevasse, there
was no way I could go. I was out 45 minutes later, with tears of
frustration and happiness streaming down my face.
Our first expedition was to the North Pole when I was 14.
One of the things I didn’t realise was how climate change would
affect our trip – we had two weeks of delays because we
couldn’t land the plane as the ice kept breaking. It hadn’thappened before so everyone was
freaking out. I couldn’t help but wonder
how many more people will be able to
do what we did.
I wanted to give up. A lot. On the last
trip, to the South Pole, the conditions
were tough – even our guide who’s
been doing this for 25 years said he’d
never seen anything like it. The scariest
parts weren’t always what you’d
imagine – skiing over ice bridges or climbing out of crevasses.
A lot of the time it was the everyday stuff that worried me. At times
I completely lost feeling in my hands after being exposed to the
cold. It’s hard to keep your wits about you when that happens.
You have to keep moving but you’re in so much pain.
I called my mum a lot, and she’d listen to me vent all my
frustrations and say, ‘Jade, you can come home any time you
like. There’s no pressure.’ But as hard as it was, and as much as
I thought about giving up, I knew I’d never really do it. I’d regret
it if I left without finishing it.
I was pretty gobsmacked when I was trolled online. I believe
we should all be striving to have more in our lives than what we
look like, so I spoke about that in a TEDx Talk I gave. Most of the
responses on YouTube were really positive, but there were also
comments like, ‘Go home and make me a sandwich.’ So when
I went to the South Pole, I asked our (male) chef to make me
a ham and cheese sandwich, and I posted a pic of me holding it
on Instagram. I wrote, ‘I made you a sandwich, now ski 37 days
and 600 kilometres to the South Pole and you can eat it.’
Coming back from an expedition is always the same.
I struggle to get back into school, sit in a classroom and shift my
focus to the next goal. Once you’ve seen things like that up close
and had the thrill of pushing yourself to achieve things you never
thought possible, it’s hard to do your maths homework.
Reaching the Poles was great [the hat-trick includes skiing to
the North and South poles and crossing Greenland’s ice cap],
but what’s more special are the moments along the way. That
sounds like a cliché, but it’s true. Once you’re there, you’re like,
well, that’s done – what’s next? For me, I don’t know. I promised
my parents no more expeditions until school’s over. After that,
I don’t know. Maybe space? That would be the ultimate. E
My Polar Dream by Jade Hameister ($29.99, Pan Macmillan)
is available now“
”
“I’ve always had to be tough”
AT 17, JADE HAMEISTER
IS THE YOUNGEST
PERSON EVER TO
ACHIEVE THE POLAR
HAT-TRICK, BUT NOT
WITHOUT BEING
TROLLED ONLINEPERSPECTIVE: