'Bonsai Donga', the first of the statues created by artist-in-residence Stephen Eastaugh.

From The Antarctic Dictionary by Bernadette Hince:

Donga n. Aust.   Sleeping quarters: originally a hut or part of a hut, now also a bedroom in an air-conditioned building. [From the Australian English Donga, a makeshift or temporary dwelling. Earliest published Antarctic example: 1965 Macquarie Island winterers Wind in the Wallows ANARE: "Pete Ormay who built a new donga / Observed, "Just as well it aint longa, / If larger in size, the wind thrust would rise. / A much longa donga needs be stronga."]

Not to be confused with a British Antarctic term Dongler, referring to a length of rope attaching the driver of a dog-team to the sledge.

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Donga Tour

The total population here at Davis this summer is over eighty. The nicest accommodation - in the SMQ (sleeping and medical quarters) - can house thirty expeditioners only, in private rooms with telephones and internet access. These are given to people like the doctor, station leader, chefs and pilots, who work strange hours or need to be close at hand. Living in the SMQ means not having to go outside to get to the mess, lounge, bar, shower, toilet, cinema, library etc.

The rest of us get dongas. These come in various forms including ancient sledded caravans used on old traverse expeditions, and furnished shipping containers: four people, no space, no cooking facilities, no network access, no phones, no privacy, short trek up the hill to the toilet block, surrounded by a mud/ice bog and clanky boards, and heated by a single bar heater - but they have the best view in the whole station, and all the bags and packs you can't fit in the donga can be stored in the massively huge cupboard known as Outdoors, which is fine because it will never rain, no-one will steal anything, and no animals will get into it. This explains the packs that can be perpetually seen standing against the outside walls.

Due to popular request I will now run a short tour. Due to space limitations, I request that only one person enters at a time. Please remove your boots upon entry. This is not so much to limit the spreading of dirt, but rather because lack of boots will mean you are more likely to fit inside the donga.

I caution you to treat the door with respect. Due to an unfathomable logic it was built to open into the wind. This means that on days of forty-knot gusts you will cautiously ease the door open a crack, whereupon the wind will catch it and it will promptly fling around 180 degrees with you horizontally flying through the air like a streamer flapping out the side of a carousel, finally to be bashed against the donga wall. Do not attempt this unless there are one (or preferably two) people around to help you get the door closed again afterwards.

(The dialogue of people returning to the donga late on windy nights goes like this: Tiptoe, tiptoe. Pause. Click. Creak. fffFFWWWWHHHHSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH CLUMP aaargh ugh feckin freck bloody argh [clunk fffwwwwwsssshhhhh] unghh HELP grrrr SLAM. breathing. silence. Then giggles from passers-by.)

Welcome inside. Marvel at the 70s faux-forest laminate print around the ventilation grille. Marvel at how four people fit all their stuff into so few drawers. Marvel at how all four of us keep totally different sleeping hours and haven't ended up at each other's throats yet. Marvel at how many other identical dongas have been returned to Australia because of dangerous asbestos insulation, yet ours is still in use and inhabited.

Coming up: the Australia Day Donga Roof Party.

   

The changing view from the Donga makes it all worthwhile.

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The Other Dongas

   

Aurora Australis and Zhong Shan dongas.