Davis Station - the most southerly Australian Antarctic base - is home to 25 intrepid Australians, a mix of scientists, meteorologists, mechanics, builders and ancillary staff.

Each July, it is custom for a group of workers to crank up a chainsaw and cut a square section in the ice - the coolest plunge pool on the planet - and for each resident to take a dip.

"It takes your breath away," said Jono Tobey, an expedition mechanic from Newcastle. "We had to delay it by nearly a week, waiting for a suitable weather window. You can be in the water for up to a minute, but most generally hop out fairly quickly.

"The feeling is surreal, a build-up of emotion knowing that a lot of sacrifices are made to get to that moment, and so few people get to do it. There are under 1000 people on the whole continent during winter and Australia is the only nation that still does the swim.

"The AAD (Australian Antarctic Division) give a lot of briefings, with videos, medicals and paperwork as part of the preparation so we are ready,

"It was a highlight of the year and something I'll never forget."

Other highlights are commissioned purely by mother nature.

The Southern Lights (Aurora Australis) splash across the night sky. Stars glisten like freshly-cut diamonds.

Daylight paints a similarly spectacular backdrop. Penguins. Whales. Birds. Crystal water lakes. Icebergs. A carpet of ice stretching thousands of killometres.

Tobey - a "dieso" from Hamilton, husband and father of two daughters - has been a part of the Australian Antarctic Project for the past 10 months.

An expedition mechanic, Tobey maintains the "power house" and its generators - the lifeblood of the station.

"Without generators, we would not last more than a few days," Tobey says from Casey Station, his summer home.

"All the fresh water and sewage freezes up. We would obviously lose heating, lighting, internet, communications ... all that stuff.

"Without generators, things don't go well down here. Especially when it is minus-30 in the middle of winter and dark most of the time."

As well as keep up the power source, Tobey tends to tractors, excavators, dozers and a range of transport from 4WD vehicles to quad bikes, skidoos and boats. Anything that moves.

Tobey, 35, is also part of the fire team, search and rescue squad, helps launch weather balloons for the Bureau of Meteorology, and provides manpower for plumbers, builders and electricians.

"It is such a strong community, a big family, if you can help anyone, anywhere, you pitch in," Tobey says.

Before joining the Australian Antarctic Program, Tobey spent a decade working for Cummins, a mining firm. His workshop: dusty tracks and dark sheds at coal operations in the Hunter Valley.

Ironically, it was the loss of a life, his niece Josephine Dun, that inspired Tobey to set off on his "trip of a lifetime". Josie lost her brave fight against Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma - an aggressive inoperable brain cancer - in December 2019. She was four years old.

Her father, Hunter cancer researcher Professor Matt Dun (Tobey's brother-in-law), devoted every waking hour to finding a cure for his precious Josie. Charity Run DIPG, which Dun's family founded and co-ordinate, has raised hundreds of thousand of dollars as Matt Dun continues his crusade to combat the deadly childhood disease.

Pictures of Josie, along with a collage of his own daughters, Eleanor, 9, and Vivenne, 7, adorn the walls of Tobey's living quarters. "When Josie was sick, it made me realise just how fragile life can be," he says. "I thought, she is not going to get an opportunity to live out her dreams. To do anything...

"I had been talking about this adventure forever and never put myself in a position to do it. I decided to apply and see what happened."

Prior to departing for the Antarctic, Tobey underwent three months of training in Hobart. No amount of preparation can counter the sense of remoteness at the most southern part of the globe.

Situated near the edge of the continental ice sheet, Davis Station is 5971 killometres from Newcastle - and his young family. The vastness is near impossible to comprehend. From the Vestfold Hills, the Antarctic Plateau reaches out 4000 kilometres across to the other side of the continent.

"It took two weeks on a ship from Hobart to get here," Tobey says. "Remoteness is a real thing, especially in the middle of winter. You can't just go home to your family, you can't go down to the beach and unwind. You are here the whole time. The long nights really take a toll.

"In the winter months, we have twilight from about 10.30am to about 3.30pm. The rest of the time it is pitch black. You walk to work in the pitch black and see auroras and awesome things like that. You need a head torch a lot of the time, especially in blizzards."

Snow lashes the earth, whipping up ice, creating nature's own scrum machine. "You have to push through," suggests Tobey, a breakaway for Hunter rugby union club Southern Beaches when not fixing machinery at the foot of the earth. "Snow flies every where. It can knock you off your feet."

Each day is completed with a video call to wife Alice and "my two precious girls". "I wouldn't have taken the position if there wasn't a guarantee of being able to do video calls," Tobey says. "The girls have been pretty resilient.

"One of the reasons for coming down here was to show them that you can do anything in life if you work hard and make sacrifices.

"The girls have responded really well. My wife has a very close family and they have been wonderful support while I am away.

"That was part of my consideration in taking the position. I didn't up and leave them. I knew they would be OK at home without me. In saying that, it will be good to get home."

Tobey, one of three mechanics on a rotating roster, works a five-and-a half-day week.

"It's exciting but you have to work hard," he says. "The equipment is 30 years old. It's in good condition, but the age of it can be a challenge. It's not what we were working on back home. It is pretty unique to down here. The rest of the world has moved on.

"The job is so varied. You are always on call. If a fire alarm sounds or there is a blackout at the powerhouse, it is all hands on. If someone gets into strife out in the field, you go and help them.

"Often you help the plumbers and sparkies and chippies around the station on their projects. Sometimes they just need manpower.

"At Davis we had one scientist, an electrical engineer and two staff from the Bureau of Meteorology. We took on a lot of science projects for the team back in Hobart.

"I really enjoyed being over at BOM, launching weather balloons and seeing everything they do and how it is translated to what the world is looking at. There are balloons launched at different places around the world at exactly the same time. Then all the data is put back into big projects. You can see what the atmosphere is doing, what the ozone layer is doing ...

"Being out on site is really cool. Drilling sea ice, checking out penguins and seals, taking tide measurements. We had to put in place infrastructure to measure tide and water currents. There are a lot of things that go on day-to-day, and a lot of people require a hand. You get an opportunity to get out and see what the place is about.

"It is an amazing experience. There are some really big highlights. You have to find your routine - what works. You make some really strong friendships and you rely on those people."

Winter at home for Tobey involves rugby. He has focused on preparing for the 2022 Hunter Rugby Union season.

"We have a good gym down here," Tobey says. "In the middle of winter there isn't much else to do. It is too cold, you can't go outside.

"We get fed so well. We have a full-time chef, who cooks six days a week. On day seven, you grab whatever is in the fridge. I thought: I am going to become a prop if I eat all the food and don't do any exercise.

"Once winter was over, we were able to get outside and play cricket, hit some golf balls, we have a basketball hoop and there is an open expanse on the beach.

"There were a couple of guys who were into rugby, one from Lord Howe Island. There was always someone to hang out with.

"One of the boys had a Stan subscription and we would try and watch the rugby on a Saturday night. We would come together at the bar, have a few drinks, share some stories, have a laugh and unwind for the week.

"It can get pretty tiresome down here. Everyone struggles with being away for so long.

"Apart from being with my girls, I can't wait to get back to footy and a club like Beaches where everyone cares so much for each other."

Tobey's contract ends in March. Most of the people he began with are have long gone.

"Emotionally, you get tired. Worn out," he said. "When I get drained, I get a cup of coffee, go outside and look at all the icebergs off the coast.

"I have given up so much to be here. The place is remarkable. Every day, I walk outside and still get a buzz."

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