An Unsung Hero: Tom Crean - Antarctic Survivor (5 page)

Lashly, never a man for over-embroidery, wrote in his diary:

Edward ‘Bill’ Wilson, the surgeon and zoologist on
Discovery
, remembered that many of the hardened sailors were affected by the tragedy. His diary records that some of the men ‘wept like children’ and James Duncan, the shipwright, said the accident had ‘cast a gloom over the ship’s company’.
⁵
Seaman Sinclair, who is thought to have given Bonner a bottle of whisky before he climbed the mainmast, later stole some civilian clothing and disappeared. Scott described the incident as ‘one of those tragedies that awake one to the grim realities of life’ and explained that ‘sadness and gloom’ descended on the ship. Bonner was buried shortly after arrival at Port Chalmers on 23 December. And as a bleak reminder of the ‘grim realities’ of the meagre life below decks in the Royal Navy in the early Edwardian era, Scott’s report to the RGS reveals that Bonner’s ‘few clothes and belongings’ would be sold on board the
Ringarooma
. The proceeds, he noted, would ‘probably be very small’.

Bonner’s replacement was not Crean, but Jesse Handsley, a native of Gloucester and a former shipmate of Crean from the
Ringarooma
who had also volunteered to join the expedition.

The final send-off from Port Chalmers on Christmas Eve, 1901, was noticeably more restrained than the scene at Lyttelton three days earlier, with events undoubtedly overshadowed by the tragic loss of Bonner. The ship, weighed down with coal, provisions and livestock, steamed ponderously away from civilisation at 9.30 a.m. Louis Bernacchi, who was physicist on the expedition, said every hole and corner of the ship was utilised for something ‘… until the Plimsoll line had sunk so deep it was forgotten’. He described the send-off as a ‘most un-ship-shape confusion’.

Although the second send-off was a muted affair,
Ringarooma
was nearby and Crean was able to bid his own personal farewell to former comrades. It would be almost two
and a half years before
Discovery
returned from the South and once again berthed at Lyttelton.

Christmas Day, 1901 was not what Crean or the rest of the crew might have expected as the
Discovery
moved slowly south – the first British expedition to sail to the Antarctic since Sir James Clark Ross 60 years earlier. There seems to have been little celebration and the mood on board was more pensive. The death of Bonner was still fresh to the memory and some among the traditionally superstitious sailors may have felt it was a bad omen for the expedition.

Scott, contemplating at least one year out of contact with civilisation, wrote:

The traditional Christmas dinner was postponed because of the death of Bonner and not eaten until 5 January when
Discovery
had crossed the Antarctic Circle. Shipwright Duncan, who came from
Discovery
’s home town of Dundee, summed up the melancholic mood on board as the new year, 1902, dawned with the ship ploughing through the Southern Ocean. He wrote:

Nonetheless,
Discovery
enjoyed very good weather which was enormously fortunate in view of the heavily over-laden decks and the notorious reputation of the stormy Southern Ocean. It is the most ferocious stretch of water on earth and a strong gale would have posed a serious and potentially catastrophic threat to the ship. Scott admitted that the consequences of gales
would have been ‘exceedingly unpleasant’ and accepted that the expedition would have lost its deck cargo – a jumble of provisions cases, heaps of coal, 45 terrified sheep and 23 howling dogs.

The
Discovery
party sighted its first iceberg on 2 January 1902 at latitude 65½° south. A day later,
Discovery
slipped across the Antarctic Circle – 66° 33′ south – and Bernacchi recorded a peculiar sea-going custom in which ordinary seamen are permitted to drink a toast with both feet on the table. It is possible to visualise the ample frame of Crean indulging in this odd ritual for the first of many times he would cross the Circle.

The
Discovery
party recorded their first sight of Antarctica at 10.30 p.m., 8 January 1902. Scott wrote:

Bernacchi, whose family originated in Italy, was more expansive, even though he alone of the
Discovery
party had sailed south before. Bernacchi was physicist on Norwegian Carsten Borchgrevink’s
Southern Cross
expedition, which in 1899 had been the first to deliberately spend a winter in the Antarctic. Now, as he saw the familiar landscape a second time, he was captivated:

Bernacchi’s book,
The Saga of the Discovery
, paints a glowing picture of life on the lengthy expedition, though others tell a slightly different tale. Bernacchi said:

However, it was not a view shared throughout the ship and the crew below decks were beginning to complain. For the men the rigid, mind-numbing routine and discipline of naval life remained constant, regardless of the icy conditions. One of Crean’s fellow seamen, Thomas Williamson, writing at the time, painted a different picture to Bernacchi when he said:

Frank Wild, who was to serve both Scott and Shackleton with great distinction, gave a clear signal that
Discovery
had been a troubled ship right from the start off the coast of the Isle of Wight. He wrote bluntly in a letter home:

Another incident recorded by Reginald Skelton, the chief engineer, also typified the men’s unhappiness. Two stokers had their grog and tobacco stopped because of what Skelton described as ‘discontented language’ about their food. Scott’s biographer, Roland Huntford, believed that
Discovery
’s sailors were depressed by the unnecessary naval routine and felt uninformed and nervous. No one, he wrote, had bothered to tell them where they were going, nor for how long.

While this was the best-equipped expedition the British had ever sent south, there was a conspicuous lack of knowledge and understanding about polar matters among the officers on
Discovery
. Only three men had been to the ice before. Bernacchi had travelled South with Borchgrevink, while Lieutenant Albert Armitage and the doctor, Reginald Koettlitz,
had both been on the Jackson–Harmsworth expedition to the Arctic some years earlier.

Crean’s colleagues on
Discovery
were a mixed bunch but, under Markham’s influence, they inevitably had a heavy bias towards the navy.

Scott’s deputy was Albert Armitage, a merchant officer with the P & O. Two of Scott’s former officer colleagues from HMS
Majestic
were in the party: Lieutenants Michael Barne and Reginald Skelton. Another, Lt Charles Royds, could boast that his uncle, Wyatt Rawson, had once been to the Arctic. The remaining officer was another from the merchant ranks, Ernest Shackleton, a colourful and popular character who was born in Ireland’s County Kildare but moved to London at an early age.

There were two doctors, Koettlitz and Edward Adrian Wilson, known to one and all as ‘Bill’ and soon to be a close friend of Scott. Geologist was Dublin-born Hartley Ferrar and the biologist was Thomas Hodgson, later to become curator of Plymouth Museum.

Below decks, the men were largely drawn from the Royal Navy, including experienced sea-dogs like the boatswain Thomas Feather, the second engineer James Dellbridge and Petty Officer Jacob Cross. There was also a group of men who would become celebrated polar veterans during the Heroic Age – men like Edgar ‘Taff’ Evans, Ernest Joyce, Bill Lashly, Frank Wild and Thomas Williamson.

As a group, they were united by their lack of polar experience. Few, if any, had shown any great interest in polar matters prior to the expedition. Nor was there any obvious reason why, for example, Scott should lead the expedition other than as a means of his personal advancement in the Navy. He had previously displayed no particular interest in the Antarctic and had no experience of the demands which the cold and ice place upon even the most resolute of people. It is unlikely that Scott had bothered to read very many books on the subject.

What is undeniable is that Scott sailed south clinging to the discredited methods of survival and travel promoted by the obsessive 70-year-old Markham which, in turn, were based on his own brief experience in the Arctic 50 years earlier.

Polar survival and travel had made great strides since the 1850s, particularly through the advances made by the proficient and innovative Norwegian Fridtjof Nansen. The American Robert Peary was also developing into a first-class polar explorer at the time and had published several books detailing his methods and experience in the Arctic North.

But the British expedition was poised to enter unknown and hostile territory without taking a great deal of notice of these advances and with an inexperienced and largely untried group of sailors and scientists.

Discovery
sailed closer to land and on 9 January 1902, anchored at Robertson Bay near Cape Adare, where Borchgrevink – and Bernacchi – had wintered in 1899. Some made a brief visit to Borchgrevink’s hut and Lashly added a homely touch to proceedings:

More important for the safety of the expedition, a note was left in a tin cylinder recording
Discovery
’s position. Scott had sailed south with comparatively vague instructions about a landing and wintering site and if the
Discovery
was crushed by the ice, search parties would have great difficulty locating the lost party. The note in the tin box was their only communication with the outside world if they became lost.

After some weeks sailing along the coast, new territory was discovered on 30 January 1902, and Scott named it Edward VII Land in honour of the new King. It was the expedition’s first new discovery in Antarctica.

On 3 February Crean was chosen for the expedition’s first brief sledging journey across the ice into the unknown hinterland. The Irishman joined Armitage, Bernacchi and
three others on a brief trip to the south to examine the immediate surroundings, notably the area where the Ice Barrier meets the land. The six men spent an uncomfortable night cramped in a tent made for only three, before returning to
Discovery
the following afternoon. However, the close quarters did at least keep the men warm and their first significant discovery of the expedition was the uncomfortable fact that temperatures on the Barrier were significantly lower than on the ship. It was a painful early introduction to the rigours of the Antarctic climate.

Another ‘first’ for the party was achieved while Crean’s party was away when two ascents were made in a balloon. Sir Joseph Hooker, the elderly Arctic veteran, suggested that the party could obtain a better view of the unknown landscape if they ascended in a hydrogen-filled balloon. Scott elected to climb into the cramped little basket and go up first and he came perilously close to achieving another notable ‘first’ – the first man to be killed in a balloon over the Antarctic.