An Unsung Hero: Tom Crean - Antarctic Survivor (37 page)

It meant a hurried revision of their options. Leith Harbour, the intended destination, was about 130 miles (210 km) away by sea, although there was some doubt that the whaling station was manned in the depths of winter. The alternatives were Stromness and Husvik, about 150 miles (240 km) away, which were known to be operational all year round.

By land the distance was estimated to be about 30 miles (48 km) as the crow flies. No one, however, had ever attempted to cross South Georgia before and the interior was largely unmapped and unknown. Shackleton knew there was little choice. They would have to travel where no one had been before. It hardly seemed to matter that they did not have adequate equipment, food and clothing or that the already exhausted men would have to rely on willpower alone.

South Georgia is a hostile wilderness, unremittingly bleak and forbidding. Its spine of mountain peaks, the Allardyce Range, runs through the centre of the island at an average
height of over 5,000 ft (1,500 m) and stretches up to the 9,000 ft (2,750 m) Mount Paget. The rugged interior is a jumble of rocky cliffs, snow fields, treacherous crevasses and steep icy slopes. Glaciers cover over half the crescent-shaped island, which is little more than 100 miles (160 km) long and less than 25 miles (40 km) across at its widest point.

Without hesitation Shackleton selected Tom Crean and Frank Worsley to make the challenging journey with him. McCarthy, the fittest of the others, would stay behind to look after the ailing McNeish and Vincent.

Worsley, as an outstanding navigator, picked himself for a journey into the unknown. His achievement in taking the
James Caird
across the Southern Ocean is one of the greatest feats of seamanship ever recorded and without his skills the trek would have been impossible. In addition, he had picked up some valuable experience of Alpine mountain climbing and had undoubtedly coped well with the fatigue and deprivations of the past few weeks.

There was inevitability about the choice of Crean, even if his experience of climbing had been limited to strolling the rolling hills of County Kerry, Ireland. But no one was more experienced at travelling across the ice.

Now approaching his thirty-ninth birthday, Crean had spent almost half of the past fifteen years exploring in the South and was better equipped than most to cope with the trials and tribulations of the coming journey. Crean’s astonishing endurance and fortitude had been demonstrated before and Shackleton also knew Crean would not break down. Crean had repeatedly shown that he was both mentally and physically tough and that, equally important, he was demonstrably a man for a tight spot.

First, though, the men badly needed proper rest and warm food to recover from the past few weeks. Hot meals were prepared and sledging rations, initially intended for the crossing of Antarctica, were assembled.

The men, though physically drained from the boat
journey, soon settled into a routine. Some found tussock grass for the floor of the cave and driftwood for the fire, others hunted for birds or anything else which could be eaten and McNeish and McCarthy worked at cutting down the sides of the
James Caird
. McNeish wrote in his diary:

South Georgia was largely unexplored when Shackleton, Worsley and Tom Crean marched across the mountainous, glacier-strewn island in 1916. The map shows the path taken by the
James Caird
approaching the island and the route across the island.

However, it was clear that a more suitable camp was needed to accommodate the weakest pair, McNeish and Vincent. The spot chosen was about 6 miles away across King Haakon Bay where their rudimentary charts indicated that the terrain was slightly friendlier. It was decided to move as quickly as possible.

As they prepared the boat, Crean suddenly leapt up and began to wade out into the water to investigate an object he saw bobbing about in the waves. To their astonishment he returned clutching the missing rudder. It had been lost in the ebbing and flowing tide for six days and yet, with the enormous area of the Southern Ocean at its disposal, the rudder had miraculously chosen to land back at their feet.

The weather, too, was kind as they skipped through the little passage guarding Cape Rosa and headed westwards in a comfortable breeze to cross King Haakon Bay. Shortly after noon they came across a gently inclined beach of sand and small stones. As they neared the beach, they caught sight of many sea-elephants, which it was reckoned would provide enough food and blubber for as long as they wanted. It was exactly what they were looking for and Shackleton called it Peggoty Camp after the matronly figure in Dickens’
David Copperfield
who lived in a house made from a boat.

With considerable effort, the boat was hauled up the beach and turned over to provide an improvised shelter against the winds. McCarthy shored up the boat with some large stones and the few remaining bags and equipment were stored inside. When finished, it was almost the lap of luxury after their experiences of the past months on the ice floes and in the open boat.

There was no time to indulge. Shackleton, Worsley and Crean were anxious to start their overland journey, fully aware that it had been over three weeks since they had left their comrades on the beach 800 miles (1,300 km) away at Elephant Island. But on 16 May the weather was appalling and the six men huddled underneath the boat for most of the
day. There was little let-up until late on 18 May and Shackleton decided to start the next day.

At 2 a.m. on Friday morning, 19 May 1916, they ate a large meal of steaming-hot hoosh and prepared to set off in their attempt to cross South Georgia. The moon shone brightly, a good omen.

Initially, they intended to take a sledge which McNeish had made from scraps of wood. It was to be packed with five days’ food and sleeping bags and abandoned halfway across the island. However, the sledge proved to be ‘heavy and cumbrous’ and was not suitable for the snow plains, glaciers and peaks which they had to cross.

After a brief conference, they decided to travel light, making the trip as quick as possible. They took three days’ rations and to save weight they decided to leave behind their sleeping bags. It was a huge risk. The men did not possess a tent and without shelter they would be highly vulnerable in a blizzard. The fact that it was approaching midwinter only increased the risks of getting caught by the severe weather in the region.

Each man carried his own ration of three days’ food in a sock and there was a primus stove with enough fuel for six meals. They had two compasses, a pair of binoculars, 50 ft (15 m) of rope, a half-full box of matches and a carpenter’s adze which would double as an ice-axe. McNeish, in one final inspired piece of improvisation, yanked numerous brass screws from the
James Caird
and fixed eight into the sole of each of their snow boots to give a better grip on the slippery ice fields. The one ‘luxury’ was Worsley’s log of the
Endurance
.

Their clothing was sparse and badly worn after five months’ constant wear. What had been heavy-duty Jaeger underwear, for example, was now little more than a light covering of fabric more suitable for warmer climates. Over this they wore a pair of ordinary trousers and a Jaeger wool sweater. The outer clothing was a set of windproof Burberrys, a blouse and trousers securely fastened around the neck, waist, wrists and
ankles to prevent cold air getting in. They protected their heads with a wool balaclava helmet and wore two pairs of mitts. The footgear was two pairs of heavy wool socks in felt-lined boots.

Finally, the three had sown an 8-inch (20-cm) piece of blanket into their badly-worn Jaeger wool sweaters to make a rough pocket for little personal items, such as a spoon, tobacco and papers and some biscuit. For men who had nothing these were treasures. Around his neck, Crean wore his little treasure, the scapular.

Shackleton left a note in McNeish’s diary saying that he was heading for Husvik and recommending that, if he did not return, the three men should sail round to the northern coast of the island in a few months after the winter had passed. He concluded:

They all shook hands, then took their first steps into the unknown. McNeish walked with the three men for the first 200 yards (180 m), shook hands a second time and watched as the three men began the climb up the steep snowy slopes towards the ominous black, snow-topped mountains. It was shortly after 3 a.m. and the moon provided a welcome splash of light to guide their steps.

Fortunately, the weather remained fine and clear as they began their first ascent, reaching a height of around 2,500 ft (760 m) after about two hours of steady climbing in the eerie moonlight. The track ahead was formidable. In their pathway, Shackleton recalled, stood a collection of five high peaks, impassable cliffs, steep snow-slopes and sharply descending glaciers. The interior, he concluded, was ‘tremendously broken’ and peaks resembled the knuckles on a clenched fist.

As dawn neared a fog swept down and they encountered their first brush with disaster as they stumbled close to the edge of a massive crevasse in semi-darkness. In the half-light they could not see each other clearly and each feared that one of the party might have plunged unseen to his death. Suddenly
they felt highly exposed and Worsley recalled the moment of sheer relief when they found all were safe:

It was a stark lesson and the men quickly roped themselves together as insurance against one of them crashing through thin ice or toppling over a concealed precipice. In the same way that Evans, Lashly and Crean had bonded together on the last returning journey from the Polar Plateau in 1912, the fate of the three now rested with each other.

Shackleton took the lead, striding into the wall of fog with Crean in the middle and Worsley at the rear of the little column. It was essential to steer a direct course for Husvik or Stromness and Shackleton was guided from behind by the sharp tongues of Crean or Worsley who kept him on the straight and narrow with suitably robust instructions of ‘port’, ‘starboard’ and ‘steady’.

A little later the fog began to lift and the men saw an enormous snow-covered inland lake slightly off to the left which offered the cheering prospect of a smoother surface and easier travel. Anxious to make haste while the weather was in their favour, they descended onto the frozen lake and, as expected, found the going much easier. But they had been fooled.

The ‘lake’ stretched as far as the eye could see and it soon dawned on them that they were gazing out at the open sea. It was Possession Bay on the northern coast of South Georgia, which meant they had crossed the island at its narrowest point in a south-to-north direction. But there was no shoreline and no inhabitants.

They had no choice but to retrace their steps, climb back up the heights where they could gain a clearer view of the
terrain and resume their path to the knot of manned whaling stations in the east. It was a bad mistake, but the weary men could be forgiven for trying to find the quickest, simplest route. Nevertheless, it was precious time they could ill-afford to lose.

By 9 a.m., after an unbroken march of about six hours, they stopped for the first hot meal. A 3-ft (0.9-m) hole was dug in the soft snow and Crean and Worsley took turns to spread-eagle themselves over the primus to prevent the sharp winds blowing it out. When the meal was cooked, they each dipped their spoons into the scalding cauldron of steaming hoosh and gulped it down as hot as possible. The effects of the warm food swept through their bodies, reinvigorating them.

Despite their precarious position on the edge of the unknown, the three men somehow managed to keep up their spirits with gentle banter which showed that, whatever the elements threw at them, they had managed to retain their humour. Worsley remembered one incident as they gulped down their welcome first hot meal. He said:

The men wasted little time and within 30 minutes had resumed their march, conscious that they had to progress as quickly as possible before the notoriously changeable weather of South Georgia deteriorated.