THE AMERICAN ALPINE JOURNAL Antarctic Interlude
THE AMERICAN ALPINE JOURNAL V
olume
V II
S eptem ber
1949
N
umber
3
Antarctic Interlude W illiam
R.
L atady
ON 19 F eb ru ary 1948 the U . S. N avy icebreakers B u r to n I s la n d and A d isto plow ed through the three feet of ice that gripped the w ooden tu g P o r t o f B e a u m o n t . T h e tu g had been locked in the ice for a y e a r; and its crew , the 23 “n atives” of A n tarctica, w ere liv in g on shore—not in igloos, but in prefabricated houses, for these were A m erican s of the R onne A n tarctic R esearch E xpedition, and th eir sojourn in the desolate country had been a m atter of choice and of p lan n in g . N o w N avy m en peered from their ships to see w h at m an n er of m an w ould volunteer to spend a year in this w h ite w aste; and all of us on shore show ed eq u al curiosity to see new faces and to learn w h at had been h ap p enin g back in the States. W e w ere a ro ugh-lo o kin g lot. M an y had not shaved for a year, and our clothes bore the m arks of seal hunts and m an y days on the trail. W e w ere a happy lot, how ever, for soon w e should be go in g hom e. F irst cam e tw o days of p ackin g and ta lk in g . W e had thousands of questions to ask the new com ers—about prices, housing, the N ew L ook, new cars, a ll the th in gs th at go w ith civ ilizatio n . T h e sailors had p len ty of questions in return. W h a t w as it lik e to live through a w in ter w h en the sun d id not rise? H o w cold d id it g e t? W e re n ’t w e tired of lo o kin g at ju st snow and ice, and at each o th er? H o w did w e lik e our B ritish neighbors, in the cam p next to ours? W h a t had w e done for a w hole ye ar? H ad w e really been there a y e a r? I had been so busy that the tim e had slipped by, and now w e w ere about to leave …
O n th e “ C l im b in g
R ange”
T hree weeks before, I had been camped in N en y Fjord w ith Robert Nichols and Robert Dodson and nine dogs. I had joined them to help w in d up a season of intensive study of the local geological formations. T h e rocks bordering the fjord are all igneous, in cluding batholiths, lava flows and m an y cutting dikes. T h e form a tions are complicated, and the age undeterm ined at this stage. C am ped beside us in the fjord were three English clim bers: F r a n k Eliot, who had climbed in S w itz erlan d and the H im alaya, as well as in the British Isles; Richard Butson, who had climbed in England, Scotland and S w itz e rla n d ; and Kevin W alto n , a true N orth W ales clim ber, who had started on Snow don at the age of eight. W ith such companions, in a region where the m ountains tower 6000 feet directly above the bay ice, Bob Dodson and I were very anxious to have a few days of clim b in g before we left. A small range about ten miles long, on the west side of the fjord, had caught my eye when we first sailed by it, ten months before. T h is group of mountains, which we affectionately called our “C lim b in g R a n g e ,” offered four m ajor climbs on rock and ice. Of these “T h e S p ire” (P eak A ) was the most spectacular—a fine rock clim b—while the “N en y M atterh o rn ” (P eak D ) w as the most majestic single peak. Between them rose “T h e T h u m b ” (P e ak B) and an un n am ed m ountain (P eak C ) . W e succeeded in clim b in g the Spire, but only on the second try. W eath er is the great hazard in the A ntarctic, as in all m ountain ranges. H ere storms m aterialize and strike faster, possibly, than in any other part of the world, for this continent is the breeder of storms. A n yh o w , our reconnaissance of the Spire ended when we were only about 300 feet above the base on the solid rock—or rather on the not very solid rock. It started snowing, and we went back to camp. On the next good day, about a week later, we m ade our second attempt, convinced that we could get up. T o climb to the place where we had stopped before was easy; but above that the rock, w hich had been loose, was even looser. Since no one had ever been here to kick the loosest fragm ents aw ay, we had to do our own “fa r m in g ” as we w ent along. T h e rock became steeper, sloping toward the vertical as we reached the white band (a layer of lighter
volcanics) that bisects the p eak. T h is w hite band turned out to be still looser than the rock below —w h ich am azed us, because the rock is so steep. H ere we relied on K evin W alto n ’s “W ales T o u ch ,” his art of trav e llin g last over delicate spots, to lead us to the sounder rock above. F ran k E liot ag ain took over the lead and, d raw in g on his vast experience, ensured success. T h e Sp ire, we found, w as aptly n am ed : there w as room on the top for only one m an at a tim e. T h e descent w as very slow, especially over the w h ite band. For safety, we rappelled here, usin g one piton and a karab in er. R etracin g our steps, w e found fam iliar roughnesses at our fingertips and “tested” rocks under our feet, and reached the tents just as the sky blackened for bad w eather. I believe that this w as the first m ajor rock clim b in the A ntarctic. Several days later w e m ade an attem pt on the T h u m b , a great truncated peak that stands beside the Spire and dw arfs it. T h e first part of the ascent w as a long snow w a lk w hich becam e m ore in terestin g as w e neared the rock. T h e snow gave w ay to ice and the slope steepened considerably, so that the rock w as m erely a continuation of w h at w ould have been a dangerous avalanche area in a w arm er clim ate. W e had to cut steps for the last hundred feet and found the move from ice to rock som ew hat troublesom e. Once we w ere on the rock, the g o in g w as easy for a w h ile, although ag ain the rock w as so very loose that I w as happy to have two experienced clim bers behind m e as I led up w ard. W e encountered a variety of pitches—ridges, slabs and tra verses—and cam e even tu ally to an alm ost vertical face from w hich several flakes protruded. As I clim bed over this, the rock sounded hollow , and ev eryth in g that I touched stirred the feelin g of in stab ility that m akes a clim ber ask him self w h y he left the valley. Above this 25-foot, 85-degree slope, the rock seemed m ore substantial, but not enough to g ive us fu ll confidence that it w ould hold our w eigh t. Besides, the clim b in g w as delicate enough to w arran t sneakers. W e had brought these along, for just such an occasion; but, after p u ttin g them on and clim b in g a few m ore feet, we decided to hold a council and discuss our situation. T h e outcom e w as that we w ent dow n, h av in g concluded that, as a g en eral rule in the A n tarctic, if one has to put on sneakers to go up, it is tim e to go dow n. F a c ili ties for p atch in g up a m an w ere lim ited at the base, and we could not leave the continent u n til the sp rin g thaw .
W e w ere only 300 feet from the top w hen we decided to descend. A bout h alf-w ay dow n w e noticed another route th at m igh t “g o ” : the rock looked sounder, and patches of snow indicated that the in clin e m ig h t be less steep. W e w ere tem pted to have another try, but fo rtunately w e resisted. By the tim e w e reached the snow, a cold w in d w as b lo w in g at about 30 m iles an hour, and snow cam e soon after. It w as one of those days of battle betw een sun and w in d , and the w in d fin ally w on. T h e next clear d ay, alm ost a w eek later, w as one of those rare days w ith o u t a cloud in the sky. Bob N ichols, Bob D odson and I w ere stu d yin g rocks in the fjord, but our hearts w ere really in the m o un tain s. T h a t even in g, un der a sky clear as only a polar sky can be, w e q u ic k ly w o rked out plans for an attem pt on the N en y M atter horn. W e left cam p at 11.00 P .M . and skied about five m iles to the crest of an arête th at separates a sm all g lacier from a larger one w h ich cascades off the m o un tain and form s a trem endous h ig h w ay to the sum m it. H a v in g left our skis, w e roped together to traverse this larg er g lacier and g a in the ridge beyond—a safer, though longer, route to the top. O ur crossing of the “h ig h w a y ” took us over m an y g ap in g crevasses, m ost of w h ich had bridges strong en o ugh to hold the w eig h t of a m an, and through m an y m iles of loose snow. A fter we had attain ed the rid ge, w e ascended th ro ugh m ore lig h t pow der u n til w e w ere near the top. T h e slope w as not very steep; w e had to cut steps in only a few places. B ut here in the shadow of the m o un tain the air w as very cold, even though the sun d id not set that n ig h t. F in a lly , at 5.00 A .M ., we reached the sum m it. I had seen the fjo rd from this direction m an y tim es in the last few m onths, as I flew by on photographic m ission s; but never had it looked as it did w hen I stood on the rim and surveyed the country all around. N ow I had a sense that I w as a p art of the country an d belonged th ere; flyin g, I had felt divorced from the gro u n d, and of course g lad not to be too close to it. A ttain m en t of this sum m it brought a feeling of accom plishm ent greater than I had kn o w n on an y other clim b. P erhaps it w as due to the location of the m o un tain , to the com plete isolation. C ertain ly the feelin g w as there. A lth o u gh w e descended q u ic k ly , to w arm our cold lim bs, it w as not u n til w e reached the su n lig h t in the valley that w e really
th aw ed out. T h en w e w ere suddenly m uch too hot. In the A n tarctic, as in other snow y regions, the sun w ill give a terrific burn if one fails to exercise g reat care. W e follow ed our tracks back across the g lacier an d then skied to cam p on a lovely surface—three inches of pow der on a h ard, solid base. T h e sk iin g dow n there, I w ould add, w as often very good. It w o uld d elig h t the trail-skiers of N ew E n glan d to see the m iles and m iles of terrain w ith u n lim ited possi bilities. Every h ill is an open slope, for no trees g ro w in A ntarctica. D u rin g our stay of three w eeks in N en y F jo rd , w e m ade several other ascents th at w ere ju st as m uch fun as the ones re counted here. W e m oved from cam p to cam p around the periphery of the fjord by dog team —a m ode of travel w h ich is still a little un u su al for m ountaineers. O ur dogs w ere hard and very faith ful w orkers, an d so eager for the trail that they w o uld how l co n tin u ously on the days w hen w e left them to go clim b in g. T h ey really felt left out. Sled dogs, lik e h u n tin g dogs, seem never so happy as w hen they are w o rk in g . O urs w o uld p ull the load all day long and rem ain cheerful even w hen they w ere tired. In all kinds of w eather, they lived out in the snow , w ith stan d in g the bitter cold of w in ter by stayin g still and lettin g the snow cover them lik e a blanket. T h e dogs are m a n ’s best friends on the A n tarctic trail. P en guin
Islan d
Before jo in in g Bob D odson and Bob N ichols, I had spent a w eek v isitin g the A d élie p en guins at one of their rookeries, on an island on the w est side of the “C lim b in g R an g e .” T h ere w ere about 2000 p en guins. B ernard Stonehouse, the B ritish biologist, and I cam ped beside them to study their habits and photograph them . W e banded 400 of the little fellow s, to see w hether they return to the sam e rookery every year. I am not g o in g back to see, but Stonehouse w as to rem ain in the vicin ity for another year. I had been fascinated by these p en guins the first tim e that I saw them sw im m in g . A t first I thought, from the w ay they travelled through the w ater, that they w ere porpoises; but p en guins travel— if an yth in g —faster. Y ou see them sw im m in g along, surfacin g every 50 yard s or so, at in tervals of only a few seconds, and then sudden ly flyin g straigh t into the air to lan d up righ t on an ice shelf, five or six feet above the w ater. T h is great speed in w ater is attain ed by
m eans of a double scu llin g m otion of the flippers as they go up and d ow n in the w ater. T h e feet and tail are kept behind, to finish the stream lin in g of the otherw ise alm ost perfect shape. P en guin s are subject to a curiosity w h ich w ould m ean their extinction in a lan d w here other an im als could prey on them . T h ey have no fear of m an, save w hen a person moves to w ard them rap idly. If you w alk up to them slo w ly, they w ill either attack you or move out of the w ay w hen you are about to step into them . T h eir attack is som ething that surprises you w hen you first m eet it. T h ey hold you w ith their beaks and sw at you w ith their hard flippers—so rap id ly that you are struck ten tim es before you realize w h at is g o in g on. T h ey can raise a large w elt through tw o pairs of gloves. O ne day I stood w atch in g a sm all group of p en guins who w ere, just as atten tively, w atch in g me. T h in k in g that I w ould try to fool them , I jum ped dow n behind an ice b arrier. Just below m e w as the w ater w here they frequen tly dove. W h en I looked up, I saw a row of little heads looking dow n. I suppose they w ondered w hether I, too, took a d aily sw im .
“ L ast M a jo r
C o a s t L i n e …”
For m e, the exped itio n ’s successful aerial photographic program m eant flyin g 15,000 m iles in seven trips and ta k in g 14,000 photo grap h s ( 9 × 9 in .) that covered an estim ated 250,000 square m iles of A n tarctic terrain . Since the story of the seven flights is long, I sh all tell here only of the one most im p o rtan t g eo g rap h ically— that w hich led to the discovery of the last m ajo r coast line in the w o rld . T h is coast lin e, the connection between the W ed d ell Coast and Coats L an d to the east, w as the only rem ain in g unex plored section alo n g the g reat circum ference of the A n tarctic continent. L o n g m onths of prep aratio n, by all m em bers of the expedition, preceded the successful flight, w h ich had A -1 p rio rity. C ap tain Jam es L assiter w oke m e at 6.00 A .M . on 8 D ecem ber 1947 w ith the new s that the sky w as clear, w ith no w in d , and that he w as ta k in g off in 15 m inutes. “In 15 m in u te s!” I had had no breakfast, the cam eras w ere not in the plane, and m an y little th ings needed to be checked. W ell, I w ould check them . Jim w ould not leave w ith o u t me. A n d I w as d eterm in ed to have some b reakfast before flyin g 2500 m iles.
A t 7.00 A .M . we took off, w ith L assiter as pilot and C om m ander R onne as navigato r. I w as aboard w ith all m y cam eras, extra film — and breakfast inside me. Jam es Robertson and I had in stalled a trim etrogon system of cam eras in the plane on the w ay dow n to the A n tarctic. T h is system , used in exploratory m ap p in g, involves three cam eras so placed that they cover a field from horizon to horizon perp en d icular to the flight line. T rip p ed sim ultaneo usly, they m ake photographs w hich overlap 60% in the line of flight and, used w ith a stereoscope, perm it the m a k in g of a m ap sh ow ing elevations. L assiter headed the tw in -en gin ed C-45 B eechcraft tow ard Cape K eeler, w here we had a gasoline cache and a sm all m eteorological station m anned by L arry F isk e and E. A . W ood. A t the sam e tim e, C o m m an der Ike Schlossbach and L ieu ten an t C harles A dam s flew the UC-64 N o orduyn over to C ape K eeler w ith a load of gaso lin e. A t the cape, w e m et, topped off our tanks, said our farew ells to the fellow s at the station, and took off ag ain for the south.1 T h e N o orduyn had taken off 40 m inutes earlier, because it w as m uch slow er. W e cau gh t up w ith it, as we had planned, near M ount T rico rn , the m ost im portant feature alo n g the coast. H ere, some 300 m iles south of C ape K eeler, we saw a red sm oke flare again st all the w hiteness. W e flew dow n to lo o k: there, sure enough, w as the B ritish -A m erican W ed d ell Coast T ra il P arty, cam ped for the day. W e landed and found the m en w ell and happy after more than tw o m onths on the trail. A rt O w en, the Boy Scout from T exas, had g ain ed 20 pounds and considered the trip restful. T h ey were trav ellin g dow n the coast, g ettin g grou nd control for m y aerial photographs an d ready to act as safety lin k s between us and the m ain base, in case w e should have trouble. W e carried com plete em ergency equip m en t, but a dog team h alf-w ay to the base w o uld have been a great help if we had som ehow been com pelled to w a lk hom e.2 W ith extra tanks, the Beechcraft held 406 gallo n s. Beside the 1 T h e fe llo w s at the statio n , fr o m th e ir s id e o f th e 6ooo-ft. p la te a u , h a d g iv e n us the go -ah ead on th e w e a th e r . O ften it w a s fa ir on on e sid e an d fo u l on th e o th er. W e h a d h a d to w a it a m o n th fo r th is d a y . 2 T h e e m e rg e n c y k it con sisted o f sle e p in g b a g s, skis, a tent, a stove, k e ro se n e a n d a m a n -h a u l sled , as w e ll as 30 d a y s ’ fo o d fo r each m a n at the r a te o f 6000 calo ries a d ay .
trail tents w e topped off ag ain , as we had done at Cape K eeler, this tim e usin g gaso lin e brought dow n by the N oorduyn, w h ich had left the cape w ith all tanks fu ll and three fu ll drum s in the fuselage. Since the N o orduyn w as to rem ain w ith the T ra il P arty, we then took off alone into the barren w astes, h ead in g southw ard alo n g the coast and into we kn ew not w h at. M an y m en, I suppose, have had the feelin g that there is some th in g beyond, w h ich they can not see—that is w h at drives them on to find out. I did not th in k of such th in g s; I m erely w ondered w hether the cam eras w ould w o rk in that cold. T h e tem perature w as about zero on the gro u n d . Jim flew q u ic k ly to 8000 feet, and I started the cam eras; but soon w e w ere in clouds so thick th at we could h ard ly see the grou nd . T h ere w as n o th in g to do but turn around and go back. A fter a long fligh t of an hour and a half, w e w ere w ith the others ag ain , at the base of M o un t T rico rn . T h at n ig h t w e had seal steaks, fresh from a seal that had rash ly put his nose up th ro ugh a “le ad ” and fallen captive to the travellers from a fo reign w o rld . T h e m eat w as good, very m uch lik e bear m eat, though w e should find it strong if w e ate it here at hom e. For four days w e w ere tied to the g ro u n d by the clouds over head, but the T ra il P arty pushed farther south the day after we arrived . T h ey could travel in spite of poor visib ility, n av ig atin g by com pass and sledge w heel—a bicycle w heel w ith a cyclom eter at tached, to m easure the m ileage. So u th w ard they w ent, at a steady rate of about ten m iles a day. W e had to w ait for good w eath er; but, h avin g it, w e could cover in four hours w h at they had taken most of tw o m onths to travel. D ecem ber 12th w as the d ay that w e had been w a itin g for—a clear, cold m o rn in g, w ith no w in d . T h e en gines of the Beechcraft started im m ed iately, but then the p lan e refused to m ove. W h en Jim raced the engines, a ll that resulted w as a great plum e of snow, s w irlin g from the rear of the plane and lo o kin g lik e a sm all tornado. T h e skis had frozen to the snow and ice, and there w as no chance of m o vin g the p lan e w ith ou t d ig g in g them out. W e shovelled and scraped for an hour before the plane w ould budge, and then Jim taxied it around to break the rem ain in g ice from the skis. Precious gas w as g o in g to w aste, but w h at else could we do? F in a lly , at 9.00 A .M ., w e took off and clim bed, very slow ly, in order to save gaso lin e. S till at only 500 feet, we passed the
T ra il P arty about 50 m iles south of T rico rn . T h ey w aved, Jim dipped the w in g , and w e w ere off a g ain —n o th in g in front of us but thousands of m iles of snow and ice, w ith a few m ountains pro tru d in g above the vast fields. F o llo w in g the edge of the shelf ice, w e turned to the east. On another flight w e had follow ed the line of m o un tain s to the w est and come to the end of the chain, w here the great w h ite plateau m et the sky. Soon w e lost sigh t of the W ed d ell Coast and the m ountains. W e were fo llo w in g the shelf ice that term in ated in the open w ater. B eyond it, less than a m ile, w as more ice, in the form of great tab u lar bergs and loose brash ice. A s far as the eye could see, and indeed (I later fo un d ) as far as the cam era could see, there w as n o thing but ice, snow and sky. T h e u n in itiated m ig h t im agin e that this scenery w o uld be tiresom e; it possesses fascination that m ust be experienced to be appreciated. It is rather lik e the fascin a tion of the open sea, w h ich some people find ap p ealin g and others can not stand. W e flew un til w e had used a little less than h alf of the g aso lin e; then relu ctan tly turned, m a k in g a larg e trian gle at the end of the course, and flew back alo n g the sam e route. A t our tu rn in g point w e still could not see lan d ahead, but clouds obscured the coast some 50 m iles ahead. By C o m m ander R o n n e’s sights and dead recko n in g, w e w ere very near the coast th at w as plotted on the ch a rt: Coats L an d , our objective. O ur return trip w as un even tful. W e did not stop at M ount T rico rn , but m erely radioed the N o orduyn to take off and follow us up the coast. N o rth w ard w e continued, all the w ay to Cape C o llier, w here we descended to refuel from a cache that had been put there a m onth before. W e had a hard tim e fin d in g it in the drifted snow, but at last m ade out three d rum s, one on top of tw o, w ith a pole above. T h en w e discovered that we had no pum p. Since the plan had been to keep both planes together, it had seem ed qu ite all rig h t to have the gas pum p in the N oorduyn. F o rtu n ately, we had in the Beechcraft tw o five-gallon tins and a sm all hose, n o rm ally used to pipe air to the cam eras to flatten the film . W ith these we w ere able to siphon 130 gallo n s from the d rum s into the tanks. T h en w e w ere read y to take off again . W e flew to K eeler and thence righ t on to the m ain base, w here w e lan d ed on the bay ice in front of cam p. It is very convenient
to be able to land in one’s front yard and taxi to the door. T h e w hole cam p w as out to greet us and learn w h at we had seen. It felt stran ge to come back from an historic flight and say that we had seen n othing—or, one should say rather, that we had just seen more of the sam e barren terrain that w as around us on all sides. W e told of the end of the m ountain chain and of the level, slow ly risin g ice shelf that extends south from the W ed d ell Coast. It seem ed possible that a bay cuts into the shelf at the farthest ex trem ity. B ut there w as no oasis, no n ew m ountain ran ge, not even a cape. I had kept the cam eras ru n n in g d u rin g the w hole trip, to m ake a com plete record of ev eryth in g that we flew over. N ow we were all anxious to see the resu lts: perhaps the fine cam era lenses had p icked up som ething that our eyes had m issed. For the next few days, I busied m yself w ith developer, hypo and 200-foot rolls of film . U n fo rtun ately, the photographs showed only g reat expanses of snow and ice; but these they show ed so clearly that we w ere sure n o th in g else w as there. S c ie n t if ic U n d e rtak in g s
E xploration of the last m ajo r coast line in the w o rld, though it w as the p rim ary objective of the expedition, w as not the only one. T h e carefu lly p lan n ed scientific p ro gram gave attention to geology, oceanology, seism ology, m eteorology and allied subjects. I have alread y m entioned N ich o ls’ geological w o rk along the coast south of the base. H e also ran a b ath yth erm o grap h and on the trip south had collected plan kto n . A n d rew T hom pson, d u rin g most of our year on the continent, operated a tidal g au ge. A lthough there w as ice to a thickness of three and a h alf feet around the “tidal sh ack,” the w ater still rose and fell w ith its accustom ed reg u larity, the average difference betw een tides being about three feet. A n d y ’s “sh acks” were a p rev ailin g jo ke of the expedition. H e m ade them of old crates and loose boards. Indeed, if anyone lost a choice bit of lum ber that he w as savin g for a special job, he could probably find it nailed to one of A n d y ’s shacks. T h ere w as the tid al shack, and there w as the m agnetic shack, w h ich housed the m agnetic dip needle for m easu rin g sligh t variation s in the earth ’s m agn etic forces. T h e first m odel blew aw ay on the day it w as
finished, before it could be tied dow n. T h en there w as the seismolo gical shack, w h ich represented the greatest achievem ent in crateshack construction. It w as large and lightproof, and the two auto m atic photo-recording seism ographs could be operated 24 hours a day. A s if this w as not enough, A n d y started another shack about a m onth before we left, an im proved m odel to house the seism ograph w hich he left to be operated by the B ritish. T h e study of m icroseism s in correlation w ith high - and low -pressure areas had proved so in terestin g that he decided to carry it on in directly for another year, through the cooperation of one of the B ritish scientists. H e had h im self recorded earth q u akes at the rate of about four a w eek, some as d istan t as St. L ouis. H arries-C lich y Peterson started m eteorological observations on the d ay w e left T exas—25 Jan u ary 1947—and continued them u n til we returned to N ew Y ork, 16 m onths later. W ith L arry F isk e’s help, Pete cam e to be pretty good at p red ictin g the w eather on the continent—a hard job because of the lack of in fo rm ation . T h e h igh on his chart w as 50°, and the low - 40°. Pete’s p rogram included also m easurem ents of solar rad iatio n and atm ospheric refraction, and he set up a cosm ic-ray m achine for co un ting bom bardm ents. T h is m achine w as n o rm ally set up in the science b u ild in g , but on two occasions Pete and C h uck A dam s took it to 10,000 feet in the N oorduyn. R esu lt: m ore bom bardm ents. D onald O g M cL ean , our doctor, had little professional w o rk to do. Once we had shaken off w h atever colds and infections we m av have had on en terin g the A n tarctic C ircle, we had no m ore illness. E ither all the germ s died off, or we becam e im m u n ized to each o th er’s types. Such th ings as stom achaches w ere unheard of. S ig m und G utenko p lan n ed and cooked all our m eals, m a k in g sure that we had a balanced diet. A lm ost everyone gain ed w eigh t. A n t a r c t ic
M is a d v e n t u r e s
W e did have a few accidents. M c C la ry ’s h an d w as broken by a fa llin g block; an d, w h ile it w as still in a slin g, he fell 60 feet from the snout of a g lacier into the thin ice and w ater below. W e threw him a rope, and there w ere a few anxious m om ents w h ile he struggled to put it aro un d him self, w ith h alf the cam p d irectin g operations from the cliff above. F in a lly , M ac w as hoisted to safety
and carried into the w arm bunkhouse. T h e only dam age w as slight exposure. O n another occasion, in Ju ly , w h at m ig h t have been tragedy turned out otherw ise. Peterson fell some 100 feet into a crevasse and rem ain ed there for eleven hours before a rescue p arty could get him out. It happened w hen Pete and Bob D odson w ere retu rn in g from the w eather station on the 6000-foot plateau, 15 m iles from cam p. Just at d usk, Pete disappeared, fallin g so far into a crevasse that Bob could not m ake out w h at he said. A ll Bob could tell w as that Pete w as alive. Bob took b earin gs on the near-by peaks, m arked the spot w ith trail flags, and then w ent for help. Since our base w as nine m iles aw ay, Bob took alm ost three hours to reach it. A s soon as Bob had eaten a bite, H a rry D arlin gto n , Ike Schlossbach and I started back to locate the spot. T h e tw o cam ps, ours and the B ritish (th ey had been w ith us w atch in g m ovies w hen Bob cam e in ) , then o rgan ized a large rescue p arty, w ith tents, food, blankets and a larg e search light operated by tw o storage batteries—all d raw n by two dog team s. It w as cold th at n ig h t: 30° below zero, and a 30-m ile-an-hour w in d . F o ur of us w ere near the scene of the accident by 1.30 A .M ., and the rest of the rescue p arty an hour later; but it w as not until 5.00 A .M . that w e found the trail flags. Bob had been very th o ugh t fu l to put them there, for the hole, w h ere a snow b ridge had col lapsed, w as only larg e en o ugh to a d m it a m an ’s body. W ith the search ligh t w e could see a prone form , far dow n. W e felt sure that Pete w as done for—h alf frozen, at least. W e lost no tim e, how ever, in r ig g in g a block and tackle over the hole and lo w erin g R ich ard Butson, the B ritish doctor, who w as sm all and had had m o un tain eerin g experience. T o B utson’s am azem en t, Pete w as very m uch a liv e ; but he w as in terrific p ain , w ed ged so tig h tly, 110 fest dow n, that he felt as if he w o u ld be crushed to death. Pete re ally w as w ed ged . W h e n a rope w as tied to him and six m en p u lled , he did not b ud ge. A t last an extra p u ll bro ugh t h im out, flyin g six feet into the air. H e w as taken into a w arm tent, w h ere his frozen socks w ere cut off. T h e ice h ad trapped h im and at the sam e tim e saved h im , for it had been co m paratively w arm dow n there in the crevasse: only 32°, w ith no w in d . H is feet w ere not so cold as m an y of o u rs; in fact, it w as Ike w ho suffered severe frostbite in this affair. A fter an inspection had revealed no m ajo r
dam age, Pete w as w rap p ed in blankets and lashed on a dog sled for the bum py ride hom e. B ack at the base, Pete thaw ed out in bed for a w eek—d u rin g w h ich he had some pretty bad n igh tm ares— and then w as back to n orm al. For his p art in the rescue, D r. Butson w as aw ard ed the A lb ert M ed al.* A n t a r c t ic R o u t in e
T o chronicle m isadventures and om it an account of the p lan n in g and preparations w h ich of course consum ed far m ore tim e—and w ith ou t w h ich operations in the A n tarctic w o uld be im possible— w o uld be grievo usly m islead in g . Every m an contributed, in his special field, p erfo rm in g tasks that w ere not all glam orous. F o r exam ple, there w as the gaso lin e, w h ich I saw first in the w arehouse at B eaum o n t: a hun d red 55-gallon drum s, each w eig h in g about 350 pounds. W e rolled them dow n to the dock and up a g a n g p la n k to the d o ck; then stacked them alo n g the rail an d aft by the planes, and lashed them w ith steel cables, to keep them from sh iftin g in a heavy sea. T o w a lk from bow to stern, one had either to clim b over 20 feet of drum s or to craw l under the planes—an in terestin g trip, eith er w ay, w hen the ship w as ro llin g 35 degrees. Once w e w ere anchored at the base, all the drum s had to be brought on shore, before the bay ice froze. T h ey w ere dropped overboard, floated ashore, and p ulled onto the solid ice, by m uch m usclepow er. T h en they w ere m oved to the high est part of the island, w here they w o uld not be com pletely buried by d riftin g snow in the w in ter. W e bro ugh t two or three drum s to cam p at a tim e, as the planes needed fuel, and strained every drop of the gasoline through cham ois before we pum ped it into the tanks. A few of us w en t ashore at the base before the rest, to m ake th ings read y. T h e others, on the ship, bro ugh t up on deck the food and eq u ip m en t that w e needed first. H eavy equip m en t had to w ait u n til the w in ter freeze, w h en the ice w o uld bear up under m any tons; but w e could b rin g lig h t objects ashore on an im provised raft, m ade by lash in g two boats together.3 Food w as stored aw ay * Se e also R o b e rt D o d s o n ’s ac c o u n t o f th e in c id e n t, on p p . 3 6 1 -2 b e lo w .—
Ed. 3 W e d id m a n a g e to b a la n c e th e S tin so n L -5 ash o re o n the raft d u r in g the first fe w w e e k s , an d in this p la n e w e c o u ld m a k e local fligh ts.
from cam p, so that w e should not lose it in case of fire—w orst enem y of polar explorers. It w as not only the gasoline that required th o ugh t ful h a n d lin g ! C lo th in g, too, w as m oved m an y tim es. A lm ost all our g ear, I should like to point out, w as loaned by the Office of the Q uarterm aster G eneral, for testing purp o ses;4 and special flying clothes, w h ich w e found excellent, w ere loaned by the A rm y A ir Forces. T h e base itself had been established first in 1939, as the East Base of the U . S. A n tarctic Service, and the little islan d w as indeed a place w ell chosen. W e had a good harbor, solid rock for our b u ild in gs, and easy access to the high polar p lateau. W e found no other place lik e it d u rin g the w hole tim e that w e spent in the A n tarctic. On the first flight of the season, H arry D arlin gto n and I flew 100 m iles dow n the coast to the south, lo o king for a spot w h ere the ship could put a p arty ashore to establish a cach e; but w e looked in vain. R u n n in g the base, how ever, took m uch tim e. W h en we arrived, the old b u ild in gs w ere in good rep air, except for the roofs, w hich leaked . T h e canvas w hich had fo rm erly covered the b u ild in gs had blow n off, and there w ere cracks w here the prefabricated sections joined. In some places, there w as a foot of ice on the floor. W e tried m an y m ethods of rem o vin g it, and fin ally resigned ourselves to the b ackb reak in g task of chopping it out. Of m odern conveniences we boasted few . W e did have elec tricity, w hen the D iesels w ere w o rk in g . C h arles H assage spent m an y hours n u rsin g the m achines, so that they w o uld give us pow er d u rin g the w hole year. Several n ew bearin gs had to be m ade out of scrap m aterial th at happened to be on the ship. For cooking and h eatin g, w e used coal en tirely. It cam e in 100-pound bags, w hich w e deposited in several caches and had to move m an y tim es. A ll our w ater w as from g lacier ice, chuted into a 1000-gallon tank behind the g alle y stove and m elted both by radiatio n and by a coil th at passed through the stove and the tan k . T ra il equip m en t occupied a great deal of tim e. M cC lary and E. A . W ood steam ed and reform ed the sled th w arts, and lashed the sleds so that they w o uld stand three m onths’ use over rough coun 4 D o d s o n ’s fin e rep o rt on this g e a r lias been p u b lish e d by the O .Q .M .G . in W a s h in g to n .
try. L a rry F is k e m ade harnesses for all the dogs that w ere to go on the long trip south. Bob N ichols and W a lte r Sm ith m ade m ore th an 500 trail flags, of airp lan e fabric and bam boo poles. Bob Dodson and D on M cL ean m ade dog p em m ican from Casco m eal and seal oil, w h ich they rendered from blubber. T h ey w ore the sam e clothes throughout this operation and for some w eeks there after w ere g iven a w id e berth by the rest of us. Seal oil sm ells strong! S ig G utenko, w hen he w as not cooking, spent hours m ak in g pem m ican for the trail parties and the airm en . For relaxatio n, w e had a good lib rary, a few gam es an d—best of a ll—50 H ollyw ood m ovies, 16-mm. w ith sound. T h e popular features I can alm ost recite from b eg in n in g to end. O ur only con tact w ith the U n ited States w as by radio. L aw ren ce K elsey, operator on the ship and at the base, sent out personal m essages as w ell as new s of the expedition. D u rin g a ll our flights, he “stood b y,” som e tim es for as lo n g as 36 hours, in case there should be a distress call. On the voyage hom e from the A n tarctic, as on the voyage south w ard , every m em ber of the expedition turned sailor. O nly eight of the 23 had ever been to sea before w e left T exas, but w e soon found out that a doctor or a geologist w ill m ake a satisfactory sailor. N ot alw ays a good h elm sm an , to be sure: once, w hen one of our “sailors” found that he w as 180° off course, he just com pleted the circle and w en t on his w ay, a little m ore carefully. R ebuked for his lapse, w h ich m ust have cost us a day, he replied, “W h at difference does it m ak e ? W e ’re in the m id d le of the ocean.” On the w ay back, I m ust add, a deviation of five degrees w as considered great. W e m ade the voyage w ith ou t m ishap, and steam ed past the Statue of L ib erty on the m o rn in g of 15 A p ril 1948, w ith a fireboat on either side of us. A t P ier 20 I could m ake out m y m other and tw o brothers, stan d in g in the crow d. H ad all this been a d ream ? T h ey looked the sam e as w hen I had left them , 16 m onths before.
olume
V II
S eptem ber
1949
N
umber
3
Antarctic Interlude W illiam
R.
L atady
ON 19 F eb ru ary 1948 the U . S. N avy icebreakers B u r to n I s la n d and A d isto plow ed through the three feet of ice that gripped the w ooden tu g P o r t o f B e a u m o n t . T h e tu g had been locked in the ice for a y e a r; and its crew , the 23 “n atives” of A n tarctica, w ere liv in g on shore—not in igloos, but in prefabricated houses, for these were A m erican s of the R onne A n tarctic R esearch E xpedition, and th eir sojourn in the desolate country had been a m atter of choice and of p lan n in g . N o w N avy m en peered from their ships to see w h at m an n er of m an w ould volunteer to spend a year in this w h ite w aste; and all of us on shore show ed eq u al curiosity to see new faces and to learn w h at had been h ap p enin g back in the States. W e w ere a ro ugh-lo o kin g lot. M an y had not shaved for a year, and our clothes bore the m arks of seal hunts and m an y days on the trail. W e w ere a happy lot, how ever, for soon w e should be go in g hom e. F irst cam e tw o days of p ackin g and ta lk in g . W e had thousands of questions to ask the new com ers—about prices, housing, the N ew L ook, new cars, a ll the th in gs th at go w ith civ ilizatio n . T h e sailors had p len ty of questions in return. W h a t w as it lik e to live through a w in ter w h en the sun d id not rise? H o w cold d id it g e t? W e re n ’t w e tired of lo o kin g at ju st snow and ice, and at each o th er? H o w did w e lik e our B ritish neighbors, in the cam p next to ours? W h a t had w e done for a w hole ye ar? H ad w e really been there a y e a r? I had been so busy that the tim e had slipped by, and now w e w ere about to leave …
O n th e “ C l im b in g
R ange”
T hree weeks before, I had been camped in N en y Fjord w ith Robert Nichols and Robert Dodson and nine dogs. I had joined them to help w in d up a season of intensive study of the local geological formations. T h e rocks bordering the fjord are all igneous, in cluding batholiths, lava flows and m an y cutting dikes. T h e form a tions are complicated, and the age undeterm ined at this stage. C am ped beside us in the fjord were three English clim bers: F r a n k Eliot, who had climbed in S w itz erlan d and the H im alaya, as well as in the British Isles; Richard Butson, who had climbed in England, Scotland and S w itz e rla n d ; and Kevin W alto n , a true N orth W ales clim ber, who had started on Snow don at the age of eight. W ith such companions, in a region where the m ountains tower 6000 feet directly above the bay ice, Bob Dodson and I were very anxious to have a few days of clim b in g before we left. A small range about ten miles long, on the west side of the fjord, had caught my eye when we first sailed by it, ten months before. T h is group of mountains, which we affectionately called our “C lim b in g R a n g e ,” offered four m ajor climbs on rock and ice. Of these “T h e S p ire” (P eak A ) was the most spectacular—a fine rock clim b—while the “N en y M atterh o rn ” (P eak D ) w as the most majestic single peak. Between them rose “T h e T h u m b ” (P e ak B) and an un n am ed m ountain (P eak C ) . W e succeeded in clim b in g the Spire, but only on the second try. W eath er is the great hazard in the A ntarctic, as in all m ountain ranges. H ere storms m aterialize and strike faster, possibly, than in any other part of the world, for this continent is the breeder of storms. A n yh o w , our reconnaissance of the Spire ended when we were only about 300 feet above the base on the solid rock—or rather on the not very solid rock. It started snowing, and we went back to camp. On the next good day, about a week later, we m ade our second attempt, convinced that we could get up. T o climb to the place where we had stopped before was easy; but above that the rock, w hich had been loose, was even looser. Since no one had ever been here to kick the loosest fragm ents aw ay, we had to do our own “fa r m in g ” as we w ent along. T h e rock became steeper, sloping toward the vertical as we reached the white band (a layer of lighter
volcanics) that bisects the p eak. T h is w hite band turned out to be still looser than the rock below —w h ich am azed us, because the rock is so steep. H ere we relied on K evin W alto n ’s “W ales T o u ch ,” his art of trav e llin g last over delicate spots, to lead us to the sounder rock above. F ran k E liot ag ain took over the lead and, d raw in g on his vast experience, ensured success. T h e Sp ire, we found, w as aptly n am ed : there w as room on the top for only one m an at a tim e. T h e descent w as very slow, especially over the w h ite band. For safety, we rappelled here, usin g one piton and a karab in er. R etracin g our steps, w e found fam iliar roughnesses at our fingertips and “tested” rocks under our feet, and reached the tents just as the sky blackened for bad w eather. I believe that this w as the first m ajor rock clim b in the A ntarctic. Several days later w e m ade an attem pt on the T h u m b , a great truncated peak that stands beside the Spire and dw arfs it. T h e first part of the ascent w as a long snow w a lk w hich becam e m ore in terestin g as w e neared the rock. T h e snow gave w ay to ice and the slope steepened considerably, so that the rock w as m erely a continuation of w h at w ould have been a dangerous avalanche area in a w arm er clim ate. W e had to cut steps for the last hundred feet and found the move from ice to rock som ew hat troublesom e. Once we w ere on the rock, the g o in g w as easy for a w h ile, although ag ain the rock w as so very loose that I w as happy to have two experienced clim bers behind m e as I led up w ard. W e encountered a variety of pitches—ridges, slabs and tra verses—and cam e even tu ally to an alm ost vertical face from w hich several flakes protruded. As I clim bed over this, the rock sounded hollow , and ev eryth in g that I touched stirred the feelin g of in stab ility that m akes a clim ber ask him self w h y he left the valley. Above this 25-foot, 85-degree slope, the rock seemed m ore substantial, but not enough to g ive us fu ll confidence that it w ould hold our w eigh t. Besides, the clim b in g w as delicate enough to w arran t sneakers. W e had brought these along, for just such an occasion; but, after p u ttin g them on and clim b in g a few m ore feet, we decided to hold a council and discuss our situation. T h e outcom e w as that we w ent dow n, h av in g concluded that, as a g en eral rule in the A n tarctic, if one has to put on sneakers to go up, it is tim e to go dow n. F a c ili ties for p atch in g up a m an w ere lim ited at the base, and we could not leave the continent u n til the sp rin g thaw .
W e w ere only 300 feet from the top w hen we decided to descend. A bout h alf-w ay dow n w e noticed another route th at m igh t “g o ” : the rock looked sounder, and patches of snow indicated that the in clin e m ig h t be less steep. W e w ere tem pted to have another try, but fo rtunately w e resisted. By the tim e w e reached the snow, a cold w in d w as b lo w in g at about 30 m iles an hour, and snow cam e soon after. It w as one of those days of battle betw een sun and w in d , and the w in d fin ally w on. T h e next clear d ay, alm ost a w eek later, w as one of those rare days w ith o u t a cloud in the sky. Bob N ichols, Bob D odson and I w ere stu d yin g rocks in the fjord, but our hearts w ere really in the m o un tain s. T h a t even in g, un der a sky clear as only a polar sky can be, w e q u ic k ly w o rked out plans for an attem pt on the N en y M atter horn. W e left cam p at 11.00 P .M . and skied about five m iles to the crest of an arête th at separates a sm all g lacier from a larger one w h ich cascades off the m o un tain and form s a trem endous h ig h w ay to the sum m it. H a v in g left our skis, w e roped together to traverse this larg er g lacier and g a in the ridge beyond—a safer, though longer, route to the top. O ur crossing of the “h ig h w a y ” took us over m an y g ap in g crevasses, m ost of w h ich had bridges strong en o ugh to hold the w eig h t of a m an, and through m an y m iles of loose snow. A fter we had attain ed the rid ge, w e ascended th ro ugh m ore lig h t pow der u n til w e w ere near the top. T h e slope w as not very steep; w e had to cut steps in only a few places. B ut here in the shadow of the m o un tain the air w as very cold, even though the sun d id not set that n ig h t. F in a lly , at 5.00 A .M ., we reached the sum m it. I had seen the fjo rd from this direction m an y tim es in the last few m onths, as I flew by on photographic m ission s; but never had it looked as it did w hen I stood on the rim and surveyed the country all around. N ow I had a sense that I w as a p art of the country an d belonged th ere; flyin g, I had felt divorced from the gro u n d, and of course g lad not to be too close to it. A ttain m en t of this sum m it brought a feeling of accom plishm ent greater than I had kn o w n on an y other clim b. P erhaps it w as due to the location of the m o un tain , to the com plete isolation. C ertain ly the feelin g w as there. A lth o u gh w e descended q u ic k ly , to w arm our cold lim bs, it w as not u n til w e reached the su n lig h t in the valley that w e really
th aw ed out. T h en w e w ere suddenly m uch too hot. In the A n tarctic, as in other snow y regions, the sun w ill give a terrific burn if one fails to exercise g reat care. W e follow ed our tracks back across the g lacier an d then skied to cam p on a lovely surface—three inches of pow der on a h ard, solid base. T h e sk iin g dow n there, I w ould add, w as often very good. It w o uld d elig h t the trail-skiers of N ew E n glan d to see the m iles and m iles of terrain w ith u n lim ited possi bilities. Every h ill is an open slope, for no trees g ro w in A ntarctica. D u rin g our stay of three w eeks in N en y F jo rd , w e m ade several other ascents th at w ere ju st as m uch fun as the ones re counted here. W e m oved from cam p to cam p around the periphery of the fjord by dog team —a m ode of travel w h ich is still a little un u su al for m ountaineers. O ur dogs w ere hard and very faith ful w orkers, an d so eager for the trail that they w o uld how l co n tin u ously on the days w hen w e left them to go clim b in g. T h ey really felt left out. Sled dogs, lik e h u n tin g dogs, seem never so happy as w hen they are w o rk in g . O urs w o uld p ull the load all day long and rem ain cheerful even w hen they w ere tired. In all kinds of w eather, they lived out in the snow , w ith stan d in g the bitter cold of w in ter by stayin g still and lettin g the snow cover them lik e a blanket. T h e dogs are m a n ’s best friends on the A n tarctic trail. P en guin
Islan d
Before jo in in g Bob D odson and Bob N ichols, I had spent a w eek v isitin g the A d élie p en guins at one of their rookeries, on an island on the w est side of the “C lim b in g R an g e .” T h ere w ere about 2000 p en guins. B ernard Stonehouse, the B ritish biologist, and I cam ped beside them to study their habits and photograph them . W e banded 400 of the little fellow s, to see w hether they return to the sam e rookery every year. I am not g o in g back to see, but Stonehouse w as to rem ain in the vicin ity for another year. I had been fascinated by these p en guins the first tim e that I saw them sw im m in g . A t first I thought, from the w ay they travelled through the w ater, that they w ere porpoises; but p en guins travel— if an yth in g —faster. Y ou see them sw im m in g along, surfacin g every 50 yard s or so, at in tervals of only a few seconds, and then sudden ly flyin g straigh t into the air to lan d up righ t on an ice shelf, five or six feet above the w ater. T h is great speed in w ater is attain ed by
m eans of a double scu llin g m otion of the flippers as they go up and d ow n in the w ater. T h e feet and tail are kept behind, to finish the stream lin in g of the otherw ise alm ost perfect shape. P en guin s are subject to a curiosity w h ich w ould m ean their extinction in a lan d w here other an im als could prey on them . T h ey have no fear of m an, save w hen a person moves to w ard them rap idly. If you w alk up to them slo w ly, they w ill either attack you or move out of the w ay w hen you are about to step into them . T h eir attack is som ething that surprises you w hen you first m eet it. T h ey hold you w ith their beaks and sw at you w ith their hard flippers—so rap id ly that you are struck ten tim es before you realize w h at is g o in g on. T h ey can raise a large w elt through tw o pairs of gloves. O ne day I stood w atch in g a sm all group of p en guins who w ere, just as atten tively, w atch in g me. T h in k in g that I w ould try to fool them , I jum ped dow n behind an ice b arrier. Just below m e w as the w ater w here they frequen tly dove. W h en I looked up, I saw a row of little heads looking dow n. I suppose they w ondered w hether I, too, took a d aily sw im .
“ L ast M a jo r
C o a s t L i n e …”
For m e, the exped itio n ’s successful aerial photographic program m eant flyin g 15,000 m iles in seven trips and ta k in g 14,000 photo grap h s ( 9 × 9 in .) that covered an estim ated 250,000 square m iles of A n tarctic terrain . Since the story of the seven flights is long, I sh all tell here only of the one most im p o rtan t g eo g rap h ically— that w hich led to the discovery of the last m ajo r coast line in the w o rld . T h is coast lin e, the connection between the W ed d ell Coast and Coats L an d to the east, w as the only rem ain in g unex plored section alo n g the g reat circum ference of the A n tarctic continent. L o n g m onths of prep aratio n, by all m em bers of the expedition, preceded the successful flight, w h ich had A -1 p rio rity. C ap tain Jam es L assiter w oke m e at 6.00 A .M . on 8 D ecem ber 1947 w ith the new s that the sky w as clear, w ith no w in d , and that he w as ta k in g off in 15 m inutes. “In 15 m in u te s!” I had had no breakfast, the cam eras w ere not in the plane, and m an y little th ings needed to be checked. W ell, I w ould check them . Jim w ould not leave w ith o u t me. A n d I w as d eterm in ed to have some b reakfast before flyin g 2500 m iles.
A t 7.00 A .M . we took off, w ith L assiter as pilot and C om m ander R onne as navigato r. I w as aboard w ith all m y cam eras, extra film — and breakfast inside me. Jam es Robertson and I had in stalled a trim etrogon system of cam eras in the plane on the w ay dow n to the A n tarctic. T h is system , used in exploratory m ap p in g, involves three cam eras so placed that they cover a field from horizon to horizon perp en d icular to the flight line. T rip p ed sim ultaneo usly, they m ake photographs w hich overlap 60% in the line of flight and, used w ith a stereoscope, perm it the m a k in g of a m ap sh ow ing elevations. L assiter headed the tw in -en gin ed C-45 B eechcraft tow ard Cape K eeler, w here we had a gasoline cache and a sm all m eteorological station m anned by L arry F isk e and E. A . W ood. A t the sam e tim e, C o m m an der Ike Schlossbach and L ieu ten an t C harles A dam s flew the UC-64 N o orduyn over to C ape K eeler w ith a load of gaso lin e. A t the cape, w e m et, topped off our tanks, said our farew ells to the fellow s at the station, and took off ag ain for the south.1 T h e N o orduyn had taken off 40 m inutes earlier, because it w as m uch slow er. W e cau gh t up w ith it, as we had planned, near M ount T rico rn , the m ost im portant feature alo n g the coast. H ere, some 300 m iles south of C ape K eeler, we saw a red sm oke flare again st all the w hiteness. W e flew dow n to lo o k: there, sure enough, w as the B ritish -A m erican W ed d ell Coast T ra il P arty, cam ped for the day. W e landed and found the m en w ell and happy after more than tw o m onths on the trail. A rt O w en, the Boy Scout from T exas, had g ain ed 20 pounds and considered the trip restful. T h ey were trav ellin g dow n the coast, g ettin g grou nd control for m y aerial photographs an d ready to act as safety lin k s between us and the m ain base, in case w e should have trouble. W e carried com plete em ergency equip m en t, but a dog team h alf-w ay to the base w o uld have been a great help if we had som ehow been com pelled to w a lk hom e.2 W ith extra tanks, the Beechcraft held 406 gallo n s. Beside the 1 T h e fe llo w s at the statio n , fr o m th e ir s id e o f th e 6ooo-ft. p la te a u , h a d g iv e n us the go -ah ead on th e w e a th e r . O ften it w a s fa ir on on e sid e an d fo u l on th e o th er. W e h a d h a d to w a it a m o n th fo r th is d a y . 2 T h e e m e rg e n c y k it con sisted o f sle e p in g b a g s, skis, a tent, a stove, k e ro se n e a n d a m a n -h a u l sled , as w e ll as 30 d a y s ’ fo o d fo r each m a n at the r a te o f 6000 calo ries a d ay .
trail tents w e topped off ag ain , as we had done at Cape K eeler, this tim e usin g gaso lin e brought dow n by the N oorduyn, w h ich had left the cape w ith all tanks fu ll and three fu ll drum s in the fuselage. Since the N o orduyn w as to rem ain w ith the T ra il P arty, we then took off alone into the barren w astes, h ead in g southw ard alo n g the coast and into we kn ew not w h at. M an y m en, I suppose, have had the feelin g that there is some th in g beyond, w h ich they can not see—that is w h at drives them on to find out. I did not th in k of such th in g s; I m erely w ondered w hether the cam eras w ould w o rk in that cold. T h e tem perature w as about zero on the gro u n d . Jim flew q u ic k ly to 8000 feet, and I started the cam eras; but soon w e w ere in clouds so thick th at we could h ard ly see the grou nd . T h ere w as n o th in g to do but turn around and go back. A fter a long fligh t of an hour and a half, w e w ere w ith the others ag ain , at the base of M o un t T rico rn . T h at n ig h t w e had seal steaks, fresh from a seal that had rash ly put his nose up th ro ugh a “le ad ” and fallen captive to the travellers from a fo reign w o rld . T h e m eat w as good, very m uch lik e bear m eat, though w e should find it strong if w e ate it here at hom e. For four days w e w ere tied to the g ro u n d by the clouds over head, but the T ra il P arty pushed farther south the day after we arrived . T h ey could travel in spite of poor visib ility, n av ig atin g by com pass and sledge w heel—a bicycle w heel w ith a cyclom eter at tached, to m easure the m ileage. So u th w ard they w ent, at a steady rate of about ten m iles a day. W e had to w ait for good w eath er; but, h avin g it, w e could cover in four hours w h at they had taken most of tw o m onths to travel. D ecem ber 12th w as the d ay that w e had been w a itin g for—a clear, cold m o rn in g, w ith no w in d . T h e en gines of the Beechcraft started im m ed iately, but then the p lan e refused to m ove. W h en Jim raced the engines, a ll that resulted w as a great plum e of snow, s w irlin g from the rear of the plane and lo o kin g lik e a sm all tornado. T h e skis had frozen to the snow and ice, and there w as no chance of m o vin g the p lan e w ith ou t d ig g in g them out. W e shovelled and scraped for an hour before the plane w ould budge, and then Jim taxied it around to break the rem ain in g ice from the skis. Precious gas w as g o in g to w aste, but w h at else could we do? F in a lly , at 9.00 A .M ., w e took off and clim bed, very slow ly, in order to save gaso lin e. S till at only 500 feet, we passed the
T ra il P arty about 50 m iles south of T rico rn . T h ey w aved, Jim dipped the w in g , and w e w ere off a g ain —n o th in g in front of us but thousands of m iles of snow and ice, w ith a few m ountains pro tru d in g above the vast fields. F o llo w in g the edge of the shelf ice, w e turned to the east. On another flight w e had follow ed the line of m o un tain s to the w est and come to the end of the chain, w here the great w h ite plateau m et the sky. Soon w e lost sigh t of the W ed d ell Coast and the m ountains. W e were fo llo w in g the shelf ice that term in ated in the open w ater. B eyond it, less than a m ile, w as more ice, in the form of great tab u lar bergs and loose brash ice. A s far as the eye could see, and indeed (I later fo un d ) as far as the cam era could see, there w as n o thing but ice, snow and sky. T h e u n in itiated m ig h t im agin e that this scenery w o uld be tiresom e; it possesses fascination that m ust be experienced to be appreciated. It is rather lik e the fascin a tion of the open sea, w h ich some people find ap p ealin g and others can not stand. W e flew un til w e had used a little less than h alf of the g aso lin e; then relu ctan tly turned, m a k in g a larg e trian gle at the end of the course, and flew back alo n g the sam e route. A t our tu rn in g point w e still could not see lan d ahead, but clouds obscured the coast some 50 m iles ahead. By C o m m ander R o n n e’s sights and dead recko n in g, w e w ere very near the coast th at w as plotted on the ch a rt: Coats L an d , our objective. O ur return trip w as un even tful. W e did not stop at M ount T rico rn , but m erely radioed the N o orduyn to take off and follow us up the coast. N o rth w ard w e continued, all the w ay to Cape C o llier, w here we descended to refuel from a cache that had been put there a m onth before. W e had a hard tim e fin d in g it in the drifted snow, but at last m ade out three d rum s, one on top of tw o, w ith a pole above. T h en w e discovered that we had no pum p. Since the plan had been to keep both planes together, it had seem ed qu ite all rig h t to have the gas pum p in the N oorduyn. F o rtu n ately, we had in the Beechcraft tw o five-gallon tins and a sm all hose, n o rm ally used to pipe air to the cam eras to flatten the film . W ith these we w ere able to siphon 130 gallo n s from the d rum s into the tanks. T h en w e w ere read y to take off again . W e flew to K eeler and thence righ t on to the m ain base, w here w e lan d ed on the bay ice in front of cam p. It is very convenient
to be able to land in one’s front yard and taxi to the door. T h e w hole cam p w as out to greet us and learn w h at we had seen. It felt stran ge to come back from an historic flight and say that we had seen n othing—or, one should say rather, that we had just seen more of the sam e barren terrain that w as around us on all sides. W e told of the end of the m ountain chain and of the level, slow ly risin g ice shelf that extends south from the W ed d ell Coast. It seem ed possible that a bay cuts into the shelf at the farthest ex trem ity. B ut there w as no oasis, no n ew m ountain ran ge, not even a cape. I had kept the cam eras ru n n in g d u rin g the w hole trip, to m ake a com plete record of ev eryth in g that we flew over. N ow we were all anxious to see the resu lts: perhaps the fine cam era lenses had p icked up som ething that our eyes had m issed. For the next few days, I busied m yself w ith developer, hypo and 200-foot rolls of film . U n fo rtun ately, the photographs showed only g reat expanses of snow and ice; but these they show ed so clearly that we w ere sure n o th in g else w as there. S c ie n t if ic U n d e rtak in g s
E xploration of the last m ajo r coast line in the w o rld, though it w as the p rim ary objective of the expedition, w as not the only one. T h e carefu lly p lan n ed scientific p ro gram gave attention to geology, oceanology, seism ology, m eteorology and allied subjects. I have alread y m entioned N ich o ls’ geological w o rk along the coast south of the base. H e also ran a b ath yth erm o grap h and on the trip south had collected plan kto n . A n d rew T hom pson, d u rin g most of our year on the continent, operated a tidal g au ge. A lthough there w as ice to a thickness of three and a h alf feet around the “tidal sh ack,” the w ater still rose and fell w ith its accustom ed reg u larity, the average difference betw een tides being about three feet. A n d y ’s “sh acks” were a p rev ailin g jo ke of the expedition. H e m ade them of old crates and loose boards. Indeed, if anyone lost a choice bit of lum ber that he w as savin g for a special job, he could probably find it nailed to one of A n d y ’s shacks. T h ere w as the tid al shack, and there w as the m agnetic shack, w h ich housed the m agnetic dip needle for m easu rin g sligh t variation s in the earth ’s m agn etic forces. T h e first m odel blew aw ay on the day it w as
finished, before it could be tied dow n. T h en there w as the seismolo gical shack, w h ich represented the greatest achievem ent in crateshack construction. It w as large and lightproof, and the two auto m atic photo-recording seism ographs could be operated 24 hours a day. A s if this w as not enough, A n d y started another shack about a m onth before we left, an im proved m odel to house the seism ograph w hich he left to be operated by the B ritish. T h e study of m icroseism s in correlation w ith high - and low -pressure areas had proved so in terestin g that he decided to carry it on in directly for another year, through the cooperation of one of the B ritish scientists. H e had h im self recorded earth q u akes at the rate of about four a w eek, some as d istan t as St. L ouis. H arries-C lich y Peterson started m eteorological observations on the d ay w e left T exas—25 Jan u ary 1947—and continued them u n til we returned to N ew Y ork, 16 m onths later. W ith L arry F isk e’s help, Pete cam e to be pretty good at p red ictin g the w eather on the continent—a hard job because of the lack of in fo rm ation . T h e h igh on his chart w as 50°, and the low - 40°. Pete’s p rogram included also m easurem ents of solar rad iatio n and atm ospheric refraction, and he set up a cosm ic-ray m achine for co un ting bom bardm ents. T h is m achine w as n o rm ally set up in the science b u ild in g , but on two occasions Pete and C h uck A dam s took it to 10,000 feet in the N oorduyn. R esu lt: m ore bom bardm ents. D onald O g M cL ean , our doctor, had little professional w o rk to do. Once we had shaken off w h atever colds and infections we m av have had on en terin g the A n tarctic C ircle, we had no m ore illness. E ither all the germ s died off, or we becam e im m u n ized to each o th er’s types. Such th ings as stom achaches w ere unheard of. S ig m und G utenko p lan n ed and cooked all our m eals, m a k in g sure that we had a balanced diet. A lm ost everyone gain ed w eigh t. A n t a r c t ic
M is a d v e n t u r e s
W e did have a few accidents. M c C la ry ’s h an d w as broken by a fa llin g block; an d, w h ile it w as still in a slin g, he fell 60 feet from the snout of a g lacier into the thin ice and w ater below. W e threw him a rope, and there w ere a few anxious m om ents w h ile he struggled to put it aro un d him self, w ith h alf the cam p d irectin g operations from the cliff above. F in a lly , M ac w as hoisted to safety
and carried into the w arm bunkhouse. T h e only dam age w as slight exposure. O n another occasion, in Ju ly , w h at m ig h t have been tragedy turned out otherw ise. Peterson fell some 100 feet into a crevasse and rem ain ed there for eleven hours before a rescue p arty could get him out. It happened w hen Pete and Bob D odson w ere retu rn in g from the w eather station on the 6000-foot plateau, 15 m iles from cam p. Just at d usk, Pete disappeared, fallin g so far into a crevasse that Bob could not m ake out w h at he said. A ll Bob could tell w as that Pete w as alive. Bob took b earin gs on the near-by peaks, m arked the spot w ith trail flags, and then w ent for help. Since our base w as nine m iles aw ay, Bob took alm ost three hours to reach it. A s soon as Bob had eaten a bite, H a rry D arlin gto n , Ike Schlossbach and I started back to locate the spot. T h e tw o cam ps, ours and the B ritish (th ey had been w ith us w atch in g m ovies w hen Bob cam e in ) , then o rgan ized a large rescue p arty, w ith tents, food, blankets and a larg e search light operated by tw o storage batteries—all d raw n by two dog team s. It w as cold th at n ig h t: 30° below zero, and a 30-m ile-an-hour w in d . F o ur of us w ere near the scene of the accident by 1.30 A .M ., and the rest of the rescue p arty an hour later; but it w as not until 5.00 A .M . that w e found the trail flags. Bob had been very th o ugh t fu l to put them there, for the hole, w h ere a snow b ridge had col lapsed, w as only larg e en o ugh to a d m it a m an ’s body. W ith the search ligh t w e could see a prone form , far dow n. W e felt sure that Pete w as done for—h alf frozen, at least. W e lost no tim e, how ever, in r ig g in g a block and tackle over the hole and lo w erin g R ich ard Butson, the B ritish doctor, who w as sm all and had had m o un tain eerin g experience. T o B utson’s am azem en t, Pete w as very m uch a liv e ; but he w as in terrific p ain , w ed ged so tig h tly, 110 fest dow n, that he felt as if he w o u ld be crushed to death. Pete re ally w as w ed ged . W h e n a rope w as tied to him and six m en p u lled , he did not b ud ge. A t last an extra p u ll bro ugh t h im out, flyin g six feet into the air. H e w as taken into a w arm tent, w h ere his frozen socks w ere cut off. T h e ice h ad trapped h im and at the sam e tim e saved h im , for it had been co m paratively w arm dow n there in the crevasse: only 32°, w ith no w in d . H is feet w ere not so cold as m an y of o u rs; in fact, it w as Ike w ho suffered severe frostbite in this affair. A fter an inspection had revealed no m ajo r
dam age, Pete w as w rap p ed in blankets and lashed on a dog sled for the bum py ride hom e. B ack at the base, Pete thaw ed out in bed for a w eek—d u rin g w h ich he had some pretty bad n igh tm ares— and then w as back to n orm al. For his p art in the rescue, D r. Butson w as aw ard ed the A lb ert M ed al.* A n t a r c t ic R o u t in e
T o chronicle m isadventures and om it an account of the p lan n in g and preparations w h ich of course consum ed far m ore tim e—and w ith ou t w h ich operations in the A n tarctic w o uld be im possible— w o uld be grievo usly m islead in g . Every m an contributed, in his special field, p erfo rm in g tasks that w ere not all glam orous. F o r exam ple, there w as the gaso lin e, w h ich I saw first in the w arehouse at B eaum o n t: a hun d red 55-gallon drum s, each w eig h in g about 350 pounds. W e rolled them dow n to the dock and up a g a n g p la n k to the d o ck; then stacked them alo n g the rail an d aft by the planes, and lashed them w ith steel cables, to keep them from sh iftin g in a heavy sea. T o w a lk from bow to stern, one had either to clim b over 20 feet of drum s or to craw l under the planes—an in terestin g trip, eith er w ay, w hen the ship w as ro llin g 35 degrees. Once w e w ere anchored at the base, all the drum s had to be brought on shore, before the bay ice froze. T h ey w ere dropped overboard, floated ashore, and p ulled onto the solid ice, by m uch m usclepow er. T h en they w ere m oved to the high est part of the island, w here they w o uld not be com pletely buried by d riftin g snow in the w in ter. W e bro ugh t two or three drum s to cam p at a tim e, as the planes needed fuel, and strained every drop of the gasoline through cham ois before we pum ped it into the tanks. A few of us w en t ashore at the base before the rest, to m ake th ings read y. T h e others, on the ship, bro ugh t up on deck the food and eq u ip m en t that w e needed first. H eavy equip m en t had to w ait u n til the w in ter freeze, w h en the ice w o uld bear up under m any tons; but w e could b rin g lig h t objects ashore on an im provised raft, m ade by lash in g two boats together.3 Food w as stored aw ay * Se e also R o b e rt D o d s o n ’s ac c o u n t o f th e in c id e n t, on p p . 3 6 1 -2 b e lo w .—
Ed. 3 W e d id m a n a g e to b a la n c e th e S tin so n L -5 ash o re o n the raft d u r in g the first fe w w e e k s , an d in this p la n e w e c o u ld m a k e local fligh ts.
from cam p, so that w e should not lose it in case of fire—w orst enem y of polar explorers. It w as not only the gasoline that required th o ugh t ful h a n d lin g ! C lo th in g, too, w as m oved m an y tim es. A lm ost all our g ear, I should like to point out, w as loaned by the Office of the Q uarterm aster G eneral, for testing purp o ses;4 and special flying clothes, w h ich w e found excellent, w ere loaned by the A rm y A ir Forces. T h e base itself had been established first in 1939, as the East Base of the U . S. A n tarctic Service, and the little islan d w as indeed a place w ell chosen. W e had a good harbor, solid rock for our b u ild in gs, and easy access to the high polar p lateau. W e found no other place lik e it d u rin g the w hole tim e that w e spent in the A n tarctic. On the first flight of the season, H arry D arlin gto n and I flew 100 m iles dow n the coast to the south, lo o king for a spot w h ere the ship could put a p arty ashore to establish a cach e; but w e looked in vain. R u n n in g the base, how ever, took m uch tim e. W h en we arrived, the old b u ild in gs w ere in good rep air, except for the roofs, w hich leaked . T h e canvas w hich had fo rm erly covered the b u ild in gs had blow n off, and there w ere cracks w here the prefabricated sections joined. In some places, there w as a foot of ice on the floor. W e tried m an y m ethods of rem o vin g it, and fin ally resigned ourselves to the b ackb reak in g task of chopping it out. Of m odern conveniences we boasted few . W e did have elec tricity, w hen the D iesels w ere w o rk in g . C h arles H assage spent m an y hours n u rsin g the m achines, so that they w o uld give us pow er d u rin g the w hole year. Several n ew bearin gs had to be m ade out of scrap m aterial th at happened to be on the ship. For cooking and h eatin g, w e used coal en tirely. It cam e in 100-pound bags, w hich w e deposited in several caches and had to move m an y tim es. A ll our w ater w as from g lacier ice, chuted into a 1000-gallon tank behind the g alle y stove and m elted both by radiatio n and by a coil th at passed through the stove and the tan k . T ra il equip m en t occupied a great deal of tim e. M cC lary and E. A . W ood steam ed and reform ed the sled th w arts, and lashed the sleds so that they w o uld stand three m onths’ use over rough coun 4 D o d s o n ’s fin e rep o rt on this g e a r lias been p u b lish e d by the O .Q .M .G . in W a s h in g to n .
try. L a rry F is k e m ade harnesses for all the dogs that w ere to go on the long trip south. Bob N ichols and W a lte r Sm ith m ade m ore th an 500 trail flags, of airp lan e fabric and bam boo poles. Bob Dodson and D on M cL ean m ade dog p em m ican from Casco m eal and seal oil, w h ich they rendered from blubber. T h ey w ore the sam e clothes throughout this operation and for some w eeks there after w ere g iven a w id e berth by the rest of us. Seal oil sm ells strong! S ig G utenko, w hen he w as not cooking, spent hours m ak in g pem m ican for the trail parties and the airm en . For relaxatio n, w e had a good lib rary, a few gam es an d—best of a ll—50 H ollyw ood m ovies, 16-mm. w ith sound. T h e popular features I can alm ost recite from b eg in n in g to end. O ur only con tact w ith the U n ited States w as by radio. L aw ren ce K elsey, operator on the ship and at the base, sent out personal m essages as w ell as new s of the expedition. D u rin g a ll our flights, he “stood b y,” som e tim es for as lo n g as 36 hours, in case there should be a distress call. On the voyage hom e from the A n tarctic, as on the voyage south w ard , every m em ber of the expedition turned sailor. O nly eight of the 23 had ever been to sea before w e left T exas, but w e soon found out that a doctor or a geologist w ill m ake a satisfactory sailor. N ot alw ays a good h elm sm an , to be sure: once, w hen one of our “sailors” found that he w as 180° off course, he just com pleted the circle and w en t on his w ay, a little m ore carefully. R ebuked for his lapse, w h ich m ust have cost us a day, he replied, “W h at difference does it m ak e ? W e ’re in the m id d le of the ocean.” On the w ay back, I m ust add, a deviation of five degrees w as considered great. W e m ade the voyage w ith ou t m ishap, and steam ed past the Statue of L ib erty on the m o rn in g of 15 A p ril 1948, w ith a fireboat on either side of us. A t P ier 20 I could m ake out m y m other and tw o brothers, stan d in g in the crow d. H ad all this been a d ream ? T h ey looked the sam e as w hen I had left them , 16 m onths before.
