I can't sleep.

I'm not feeling stressed about anything, I'm just laying wide awake struggling to locate shuteye. This is an unusual scenario. I am a good sleeper.

And whenever a lack of slumber occasionally falls my way, I get up and make a cup of tea, probably my 10th for the day.

Often tea helps even though I like it strong, and it is full of caffeine.

But I can't be bothered getting up to fill the kettle in the bathroom sink, so I continue just to lay there, moving and shifting, then trying to remain still, frustrated.

The hotel is far from unfamiliar, I can't blame that.

I stay here so often the pillows are friends.

The temperature is consistent and the surroundings common because I spend as much time away during the week as I do at home.

I have never thought of myself as a drive in, drive out worker, but I am just that.

It is very dark and very quiet, that time of night that either has you feeling scared or incredibly calm.

Florence Welch tells me, "it's always darkest before the dawn".

I hope that I am not awake at dawn. Thomas Fuller coined the proverb.

I find myself listening for noise, movement, cars, burglars, prowlers, anything. But there is nothing. Not even the sound of the wind that usually howls off the mountain can be blamed because the night is perfectly still.

A cup of tea eventually wins and for once it remains hot until I see the bottom of the vessel.

I pick up a novel and read a few chapters. I devour the latest novels or New York Best Sellers on my Kindle.

But I also like visiting the library both North and South.

Years ago, I would dutifully trek to choose an armful of Large Print Westerns for my late father. I think about that every time I call in at Launceston Library.

I now choose novels written by females. I don't really know why because this is new for me, and I can't stop reading as a result.

My CD and book collections were once dominated by male artists. Not anymore.

Spotify, instant gratification via my Kindle, and regular visits to the library have changed that.

There must be some deeper reason for this shift, and I think about that for a while.

My mind wanders to Antarctica, and I spend some more time thinking why. I arrive at the fact that the new icebreaker named nuyina is enroute from the Netherlands and I can't wait to see it in six weeks.

nuyina cost $1.9 billion to build and will sail the icy waters for 30 years. nuyina means southern lights in palawa kani, the language of Tasmanian Aboriginals.

It's terrific the federal government recognised the traditional owners through naming the vessel using their language

An opportunity existed for the state government to do the same with Hobart City High School following the merger of New Town and Ogilvie High Schools. Alas, they missed an opportunity.

A dual name would have gone part way to celebrating traditional owners and acknowledging the past.

Instead, Hobart City High School, a bland and unimaginative name will have to do at least for my lifetime.

My mind is triggered. Again.

Antarctica is front of mind not just because of the imminent arrival of nuyina.

It is triggered because I have been listening to a podcast about Sir Ernest Shackleton and his 1914-1916 expedition to the southernmost continent. The crew's survival after nearly two long desolate years, including 10 months stuck in pack ice that eventually crushed his beloved ship, the Endurance, is stuff of legend, and much can be learned from his leadership.

Shackleton was a people-centred leader and ever the optimist but not in a way that prevented tough decisions being made when all appeared lost. By comparison, his predecessor, Robert Falcon Scott, was old school.

A tough, uncompromising military leader more common to the time.

I think about how Shackleton's leadership style can influence my day-to-day interactions.

When I am struggling to sleep, I try to avoid my phone. Surely my friends are asleep and giving social media a break. I am not very accomplished at avoiding my phone.

Sir Ernest wins, and I restart the Wondery podcast. He was smart and brave and relentless in his pursuit of a goal.

He didn't quite make it, but he was a hero for trying and for saving 27 men including a stowaway. And then I wake.

Happy Father's Day - enjoy a rest.