An Unsung Hero: Tom Crean - Antarctic Survivor (9 page)

Fortunately, the men were out on the Barrier for only eight days. But it had been a harrowing experience and another reminder of the risks. Nevertheless, within days of their return, Crean and his colleagues prepared to launch themselves on a fresh trip to the area around what is now called the Barne Inlet, a little over 200 miles across the Barrier to the south. Once again, though, the weather, driven by a southerly gale, was appalling.

The party of six left the ship on 6 October and was provisioned for 70 days. In the event, they were out for 69 days which in the context of the poor weather suggests the party cut things pretty finely. A lengthy blizzard at the wrong time would have trapped the men in their tents with disturbing
consequences. As it was, the bad weather forced the party to remain in their tents for nine whole days when supplies were plentiful. On another fourteen days, they either started late or were stuck in their tents for half the day. Further hold-ups would have eroded their margin of safety.

Barne was unhappy at not making better progress but Scott fully understood the severity of the weather and later recalled that ‘ill fortune dogged this party from the start’. The party was also hampered by numerous ‘undulations and disturbances’ where the Barrier joins the frozen inlet at the bottom of what is today known as the Byrd Glacier in the Britannia Range.

It was the most testing journey Crean undertook on the
Discovery
expedition. The party had to cross steep crevasses and ridges but there was some reward for the risks and hard slog of dragging sledges across the uneven landscape. Against the odds, they managed to chart accurately for the first time the mountain coastline running down to the Barrier, which in itself was a creditable performance.

However, the party’s most significant contribution to the entire
Discovery
expedition was made purely by chance as the men were trudging northwards back to the safety of the ship. The returning party came across Depot A, which Scott had laid down and accurately fixed thirteen months earlier at Minna Bluff alongside Mount Discovery on the very edge of the Barrier. But to everyone’s astonishment, the depot had moved 608 yards (556 metres) in thirteen months, or more than 4 feet a day. Although scientists with the expedition believed that the Barrier was moving, the accidental discovery of the depot’s movement enabled them to measure for the first time the speed at which it was travelling. Scott described the news as ‘one of the most important results of the expedition’.

Despite the hardships and lack of progress, Barne was pleased with his party and reported back to Scott:

The round trip for Crean and his colleagues was a little short of 400 miles (640 km), but the poor weather and heavy work meant it had taken 69 days to cover the distance – an average of less than 6 miles a day. Even after taking account of the time spent confined to the tent because of blizzards, the party travelled at a rate of only 7½ miles a day.

In contrast, Scott’s party to the west during much the same time had travelled 1,098 miles (1,750 km) in 81 days which showed that the leader himself had learned at least one important lesson from his last lengthy trip on the ‘furthest south’ journey a year earlier. This time he had sensibly opted for proven man-hauling quality from the ranks of the seamen and had taken Evans and Lashly, two of the most formidable sledgers of the Heroic Age. On his ‘furthest south’ journey with Wilson and Shackleton, admittedly the first major expedition into the Antarctic hinterland, Scott had covered only 960 miles (1,500 km) in 93 days. The improvement was dramatic.

Scott returned to
Discovery
on Christmas Eve, 1903, to find only four men on board. The others, including Crean, were busy with the laborious task of trying to free
Discovery
from her imprisonment in the ice.

To the party’s deep dismay, there were now about 20 miles (32 km) of ice separating
Discovery
from open sea and freedom. There was a growing realisation that either
Discovery
would need a miraculous escape or that the ship would have to be abandoned and the men carried home on the relief ship.

The men threw themselves into the task of freeing the ship, desperately trying to saw through 20 miles of 7-ft (2-m) thick ice in a vain attempt to carve out a channel. But after twelve days’ hard labour, the men had made pitifully small progress, slicing two parallel cuts of only 150 yards (137 m) each. To continue was futile and Scott called a halt. He wisely began to make preparations for another winter and the men
began earnestly searching the horizon for the relief ship,
Morning
, which was expected at any time.

On 5 January 1904 the men were astonished to see not one, but two ships sail into view – the
Morning
and the Dundee whaler,
Terra Nova
. The stranded party, already two years into their sojourn, were understandably delighted. Williamson said the party started ‘jumping around like wild men’.

But Scott had reason for dismay. The relief ships had brought the unequivocal message that unless
Discovery
was freed within about six weeks, she would have to be abandoned.

Sailors, by tradition, regard abandoning ship as the last resort and Scott believed he and his men had been placed in a ‘very cruel position’. Leaving
Discovery
to be crushed by the ice on her maiden voyage would have been a severe blow to Scott’s credibility and to him abandonment was unthinkable. It would also have exposed the folly of his original decision to allow the ship to become frozen in.

Nevertheless, there was some sympathy for the Captain among the officers and men. Charles Ford, the ship’s steward, said that never had orders been framed which gave an officer less option. Scott was obviously deeply affected by the decision and his concern was readily apparent. Ford wrote:

Colbeck’s reports on
Discovery
a year earlier, in 1903, had caused some alarm back in London. Although there was praise for the achievements so far, there was concern about the safety of the men if
Discovery
had to endure another winter in the South. The mood was not helped by the eccentric behaviour of Sir Clements Markham, who still acted as though it was his personal venture.

Markham, who was now 73, simultaneously managed both to celebrate
Discovery
’s achievements and cause concern about
the men’s safety. He demanded that a relief ship be sent, but overlooked the fact that very little money remained in the kitty. He became almost hysterical in his attempts to rally support for a relief vessel, warning about a ‘terrible disaster’ if
Discovery
was not relieved and arguing that it was now a ‘matter of life and death’.

There was also continuing friction between the expedition’s original sponsors, the Royal Geographical Society and the Royal Society. Markham eventually went directly to the Balfour Government with a plea for £12,000 (today: over £1,000,000).

But to Markham’s chagrin, ministers took the matter out of the two societies’ hands and set up their own Antarctic Relief Committee under the chairmanship of Sir William Wharton, a leading hydrographer at the Admiralty. The Government, it emerged, would finance a rescue if the societies handed over the
Morning
; a second ship would also go on the relief expedition. It may be that the Government wanted to keep a closer eye on proceedings than Markham had managed previously with the
Morning
relief.

Time was marching on and a frantic search began to find and refit a suitable vessel to accompany
Morning
. The Committee trawled the leading British whaling fleets and the Norwegian explorer, Nansen, was also approached. By early July, the Committee had alighted on the
Terra Nova
, a whaler in the fleet of C.T. Bowring, which it bought for £20,000 (today: over £1,750,000). Together with the refitting of the
Morning
, the relief of
Discovery
was to cost the tax-payers around £35,000 at 1903 prices, or the equivalent of nearly £3,000,000 at current purchasing power.

It soon became clear that it would be impossible to refit the
Terra Nova
in time for her to leave England by early August, the latest possible date for her to make the 14,000 mile journey to McMurdo Sound. However, Wharton was determined and decided to have the
Terra Nova
towed most of the way across the globe by a series of Royal Naval vessels.

By a supreme irony, one of the men called upon to help rush through the refitting of
Terra Nova
was Ernest Shackleton, who had only recently returned to Britain after being sent home on the
Morning
by Scott six months earlier.

The
Terra Nova
, under the seasoned Scots whaling veteran, Captain Henry Mackay, duly reached Hobart, Tasmania, for rendezvous with Colbeck and the
Morning
. They reached the ice edge in McMurdo Sound on 5 January 1904, three weeks earlier than
Morning
had arrived the previous year.

The three ships’ parties were organised into a single company working up to eighteen hours a day with one simple task – to free
Discovery
. With ice sawing ruled out, the men turned to explosives. Blasting began on 15 January but, frustratingly, progress was negligible and the mood blackened. Scott began transporting valuable scientific instruments and records to the relief ships, while everyone tried hard to keep up their spirits. Arrangements were made for most of the wintering party to return onboard the larger vessel, the
Terra Nova
.

But the work to free the ship was not without danger and Crean came perilously close to losing his life after plunging through the ice near Hut Point twice in a single day. On the first occasion, he returned to the ship and sensibly changed his wet clothes. He immediately went out again on skis and promptly fell through the ice a second time with near fatal results.

The steward, Ford, was on hand and recorded the Irishman’s narrow escape. He reported to his diary:

Without his quick-thinking comrades, Crean, weighed down by the extra polar clothing, would certainly have perished in the freezing waters. For Crean it was the first of many narrow escapes from death in the hostile Antarctic environment. But he seemed undisturbed by the life-threatening incident and Scott noted that Crean was ‘very cheerful’ about his ducking.

Although some movement in the ice was apparent, on 13 February there remained still two frozen miles between
Discovery
and the relief ships. Abandoning the ship was looking more likely and Scott was gloomy:

But 24 hours later, as if in answer to the silent prayers of everyone on board, the ice suddenly broke up. Chunks of ice drifted out to open sea and
Morning
and
Terra Nova
came sailing alongside. It happened very quickly and
Discovery
was free at last.

A night of celebration and wild cheering followed. The men on shore ran up a Union Jack and Colbeck observed that there was not a happier man living than Scott that night.

Final preparations were made for a swift exit, including the removal of the last traces of ice encasing
Discovery
. An explosion on 16 February did the trick and the ship swung around, ‘with blue water lapping against her sides’, as Scott put it. He added an emotional postscript which probably summed up the feelings of all onboard:

The next day the party carried out one final solemn duty when they erected a simple white painted hardwood cross on the summit of Hut Point, 300 ft from the
Discovery
hut in memory of their fallen comrade, seaman Vince. His colleagues stood bare-headed while Scott read a prayer. Vince was the first person to die at McMurdo Sound and the simple inscription on the cross remains clearly visible to this day.

The trio of ships finally left Antarctica on 19 February 1904, two years and six weeks after the
Discovery
first caught sight of the Continent. Scott spoke of his feelings of sadness at leaving familiar sights, but after two years of enforced captivity the men were utterly delighted to be on the high seas and heading back to civilisation.