The Explorers Club, real-life Indiana Joneses

While most of DC was aflutter over the dwindling White House Correspondents’ Association dinner on Saturday night, Cockburn looked north to a different black-tie affair. One whose attendees have the direct inverse sense of self-importance to actual-importance ratio on display at the Washington Hilton.

A motley crew of explorers, climbers, deep-sea divers, astronauts, scientists, documentarians and assorted oddballs converged onto the Glasshouse in Manhattan for the 121st annual Explorers Club dinner – and your correspondent was among them.

Cockburn is used to being the least distinguished person in the room but was even more so than normal. Founded in 1905 by a group of explorers and scientists, its membership roll include a who’s-who of real-life Indiana Joneses – presumably minus the grave-robbing, occult practices and wanton disregard for the preservation of historical sites. The annual dinner brings together a few hundred members and their guests to celebrate the insane feats and scientific accomplishments for the year and raise money to fund scholarships and grants for young up-and-coming Jane Goodalls and Buzz Aldrins.

Riding up the elevator, Cockburn had his first explorer-celebrity encounter, standing opposite Jimmy Chin, the mountaineer and documentarian who you might know from his film Free Solo, clad in a Thom Browne tuxedo. Astonishingly, it fitted him. Cockburn didn’t know that Thom allowed customers to purchase well-fitting suits – unless you signed a blood oath to wear your pants and jacket at least two inches too short.

The cocktail reception was jam-packed and upon arrival Cockburn was greeted by a man in what can only be described as an alligator suit. Literally: he was wearing the head of an alligator as a hat.

Cockburn made a beeline to the bar to fuel up, when he heard what had to be a crying child. That couldn’t be right… and it wasn’t: it was merely a squawking parrot across the room, perched on a man’s shoulder.

Cockburn usually sticks to a liquid diet at cocktail receptions but was curious about the food on offer. He was not disappointed. An assortment of roasted ants, mealworms and larvae were displayed alongside a whole iguana at a carving station. While the iguana was a bit leathery, the wild boar sliders hit the spot.

As these types of dinners go, there’s a hierarchy to the tables – the closer to the stage, the more prestigious. Cockburn had been assigned to a slightly better table than Richard Gere. Rightly. At a table nearby was the leadership team from Colossal Biosciences, the good folks who just casually de-extincted the dire wolf.

Cockburn’s host for the evening was Commander Victor Vescovo, sporting a white beard, a long white ponytail and a chest of medals. With his Explorers Club Medal around his neck (the most prestigious award they have – past recipients include Robert Peary, Roald Amundsen, Sir Edmund Hillary and the Apollo 11 crew), you might mistake Victor for a very dashing, well-groomed pirate (which he has officially been deemed by the government of Indonesia and is no longer welcome within its territorial waters).

Victor has many accolades, but because Cockburn’s editor has given him a strict word count, he will list just a few: the first man to reach both the top of Everest and dive Challenger Dee (the deepest point on the seabed), completing the Explorer’s Grand Slam of reaching the highest peaks on all seven continents along with the South and North poles – and discovering two of the deepest World War Two shipwrecks ever found.

Oh, and he has one of the new Explorer-class US Navy surveillance ships named after him.

Richard Gere took the stage to speak about his eco-conscious development project in Mexico and nearly made it all the way through without referencing his good friend the Dalai Lama. But, much to your correspondent’s relief, shoehorned their closeness in at the end.

After the dinner, a line formed at our table as attendees sought to pay their respects to Commander Vescovo, so Cockburn headed outside for a little relief from the action.

On the terrace, the fun stories start coming out: “I was born in Nepal and there was a prophecy that I would die in water. Growing up, my parents never let me near a body of water. Now I can’t swim – sort of self-fulfilling.” Profound stuff, though luckily your correspondent has siblings.

Cockburn was worried there would be nary a smoker among this group of distinguished health freaks, but forgot about one important group not immune to the siren call of the nicotine plant – the Scandinavian seafarers that looked as if they strode straight off their Viking ship in the Hudson.

Huddled around the group, Cockburn overheard “I quit smoking after my ancestors spoke to me during an Ayahuasca ceremony in Peru. They told me that so many had to be born for me to live and I was selfishly throwing my bloodline away.” Profound stuff, though luckily your correspondent has siblings.

Normally Cockburn walks away from these types of dinners with his nihilism intact. Unfortunately, the Explorers Club robbed him of his jade-colored glasses. Your correspondent saw some of the best of America – a group of fun, genuine, genius nerds accomplishing the impossible, while possessing none of the ego you might expect. Cockburn is currently brainstorming feats that might be accomplished and readying an application for membership.