An Outsider Inside the Explorers Club

When you do what I do, unusual things sometimes happen.  Such as:  finding myself getting smashed with actor Dan Aykroyd as we drain bottles of his Crystal Head Vodka. We were at a remote dinosaur dig in Alberta during a celebrity fundraiser for a new dinosaur museum named after the real-life inspiration for the Sam Neill character in Jurassic Park.   Later I would share a day in a helicopter with the president of the illustrious Explorers Club, who invited me to be the Master of Ceremonies at the club’s infamous annual dinner at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York. Following previous MC’s including Aykroyd, Dan Rather, and other celebrities better known and more qualified, I assumed she was joking.

Dan Aykroyd addressed a media scrum at a fundraiser for the Phlip J Currie Dinosaur Museum in Alberta

Digging for dinosaurs with palaeontologists and celebrity families.

​Months later it all actually manifested and off I went to New York to hold centre stage at a black-tie dinner with astronauts, ambassadors, billionaires, legendary filmmakers, explorers and scientific legends.  I would wear an oversize rental tuxedo with a bright orange tie, read from a teleprompter, and be introduced on stage by drummers from Papua New Guinea.  I didn’t write the script in a tightly managed, big-budget and choreographed evening, which happened to be the night before a board coup that ousted the lovely president who invited me, seemingly jettisoning everything she touched, myself included.   That evening, I sat next to director Ken Burns, an intense chap who read a monotone keynote about Lewis and Clark. I love Ken Burns documentaries, his keynotes less so.   I introduced and handed awards to some real legends, including astronaut Buzz Aldin, a man with a twinkle in his eyes who clearly knows exactly how to enjoy himself.  I also shared the stage with the late US wildlife TV legend Jim Fowler, and an iguana clearly delighted to avoid the dinner table.

On stage as Master of Ceremonies at the Explorers Club Annual Dinner at the Waldorf Astoria in New York

Sharing the stage with an Iguana

Roasted iguana on the menu.

The buffet at the annual dinner is legendary, stacked with delicious invasive species like grilled lionfish, water bugs, rattlesnake, iguana, emu, and delectable goat penis on a stick.   This is the Explorers Club after all.   As my mug appeared on big screens, I expect most people were wondering who the hell I was, and where my accent came from.  At the bar, I learned just how tense things were that year, politically, in a members-only society that should rival its competitor National Geographic for global renown.   After all, Hillary planted an Explorers Club flag on Everest, and Neil Armstrong took one to the moon.   Yet while National Geographic embraced the public with a magazine and TV shows, the Explorers Club retreated into a shadowy elite organization, sequestered behind impressive stone walls in its old-world rowhouse headquarters in New York.  
​
Things have long since improved under a revitalized new board, but when I stepped into the building the morning after the event to learn more about the club and conduct some interviews, intrigue and ego dripped from the walls. A prickly atmosphere clashed with the medals, curios, awards, and photographs of illustrious members accomplishing otherworldly things.   Yes, there’s a full sized stuffed polar bear in the library, and yes, the Explorers Club has counted US presidents, titans of industry and today’s most famous billionaires as members.    In case you’re wondering, it’s a process to join this Freemasonry of Adventure. 

With astronaut Buzz Aldrin and outgoing Explorers Club president Lorie Karnath.

​Joining me that weekend in New York was my friend and filmmaker Ian Mackenzie, and we thought it would be fun to capture the absurdity of our adventure by paying tribute to the mystery of the organization.  So, I wrote something up and adopted an accent as bad as my rental tuxedo, narrating a film noir video that does actually take you inside the dinner and organization.   Shooting it for Matador in a brief moment of time when the organization didn’t mind some public attention, I thought it would be fun to unearth that video and share it here.

With filmmakers Ian Mackenzie and Ken Burns.

As for the dinosaur dig that kicked it off, in attendance was also Robert F Kennedy Jnr, who is a lot better known now than he was back then.  I brushed away dirt from fossils with the Aykroyd family, and the Philip J Currie Dinosaur Museum just celebrated its 10th anniversary in Grande Prairie.    I collected a few more experiences too weird to make up, and because of that chance encounter with ambassador of Papua New Guinea at the event, I ended up learning to scuba dive in a truly remarkable part of the world.  I was never invited to join the actual Explorers Club, but several of my friends are members, and I’m perfectly happy to be a Fellow of the Royal Canadian Geographic Society instead.  In the end, we’re all on our own personal adventures.