The Worst Journey in the World (32 page)

Read The Worst Journey in the World Online

Authors: Apsley Cherry-Garrard

BOOK: The Worst Journey in the World
9.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

We treated newly formed ice with far too little respect. It was on April
7 that Scott asked whether any of us would like to walk northwards over
the newly formed ice towards Castle Rock. We had walked about two miles,
the ice heaving up and down as we went, dodging the open pools and leads
to the best of our ability, when Taylor went right in. Luckily he could
lever himself out without help, and returned to the hut with all speed.
We prepared to cross this ice to Cape Evans the next day, but the whole
of it went out in the night. On another occasion we were prepared to set
out the following morning, but the ice on which we were to cross went
out on the turn of the tide some five hours before we timed ourselves to
start.

Scott was of opinion that the ice in the two Bays under Erebus was firm,
and prepared to essay this route. The first of these bays is formed by
the junction of the Hut Point Peninsula with Erebus to the south, and by
Glacier Tongue to the north. Crossing Glacier Tongue a party can descend
on to the second bay beyond, the northern boundary of which is Cape
Evans. The Dellbridge Islands, of which Great Razorback is in direct line
between Glacier Tongue and Cape Evans, help to hold in any ice which
forms here. The route had never been attempted before, but it was hoped
that a way down from the Peninsula on to the frozen sea might be found at
the Hutton Cliffs, an outcrop of lava rock in the irregular ice face.

"A party consisting of Scott, Bowers, Taylor, and Seaman Evans with one
tent, and Lieutenant Evans, Wright, Debenham, Gran and Crean with
another, started for Hut Point. It was dark to the south and snowing by
the time they reached the top of Ski Slope. We helped them past Third
Crater. The ice from Hut Point to Glacier Tongue was impossible, and so
they went on past Castle Rock and were to try and get down somewhere by
the Hutton Cliffs on to some fast sea-ice which seemed to have held there
some time, and so across Glacier Tongue on to sea-ice which also seemed
to be fast as far as Cape Evans.

"After lunch Wilson and I started about 4 P.M. in half a blizzard. It was
much better on the Heights and fairly clear towards Erebus, but we could
not see any traces of the party on the ice.

"April 12. This morning as it was beginning to get light a blizzard
started, and it is blowing very hard now. The large amount of snow which
has fallen will make it very thick. We are all anxious about the
returning party, for Scott talked of camping on the sea-ice. The ice in
Arrival Bay (just north of Hut Point) has gone out. They have
sleeping-bags, food for two meals, and a full primus for each tent.

"April 13. We were very anxious about the returning party, especially
when all the ice north of Hut Point went out. The blizzard blew itself
out this morning, and it was a great change to see White Island and The
Bluff once more. Atkinson came in before lunch and told me that, looking
from the Heights, the ice from Glacier Tongue to Cape Evans appeared to
have gone out. This sobered our lunch. We all made our way to Second
Crater afterwards, and found the ice from the Hutton Cliffs to Glacier
Tongue and thence to Cape Evans was still in.

"Before leaving, Scott arranged to give Véry Lights at 10 P.M. from Cape
Evans on the first clear night of the next three. To-night is the third,
and the first clear night. We were out punctually, and then as we watched
a flare blazed up, followed by quite a firework display. We all went wild
with excitement—knowing that all was well. Meares ran in and soaked some
awning with paraffin, and we lifted it as an answering flare and threw it
into the air again and again, until it was burning in little bits all
over the snow. The relief was great."
[126]

*

Bowers must tell the story of the returning party:

"We topped the ridges and headed for Erebus beyond Castle Rock. It looked
a little threatening at first, but cleared a bit as we got on. It was
quite interesting to be breaking new ground. Scott is a fine stepper in a
sledge, and he set a fast and easy swing all the time. It was snowing and
misty when we got beyond the Hutton Cliffs, but we pitched the tents for
lunch before going down the slope. There was no doubt that a blizzard was
coming up. It cleared during lunch, which we finished about 3.30 P.M., as
it had been a long morning march.

"It was just as well for us that the mist cleared, for the slope was not
only crevassed in one direction, but it ended in a high ice-cliff. By
working along we found a lowish place about thirty feet down from top to
bottom. Over this we lowered men and sledges. It had started to blow and
the drift was flying off the cliff in clouds. We put in a couple of
strong male bamboos to lower the last man away, leaving the Alpine rope
there to facilitate ascent (i.e. for any party returning to Hut Point
with food). We then repacked the sledges and headed across the bay
towards the Glacier Tongue, where we arrived after dark about 6 P.M. The
young sea-ice was covered in a salt deposit which made it like pulling a
sledge over treacle instead of ice, and it was very heavy going after the
snow uplands. The Tongue was mostly hard blue ice, which is slipperiness
itself, and crevassed every few yards. Most of these were bridged, but
you were continually pushing a foot, or sometimes two, into nothingness,
in the semi-darkness. None of us, however, went down to the extent of our
harness.

"Arrived on the other side we struck a sheltered dip, where we decided to
camp for something to eat. It was after 8 P.M. and I was for camping
there for the night, as it seemed to me folly to venture upon a piece of
untried newly frozen sea-ice in inky darkness, with a blizzard coming up
behind us. Against this of course we were only five miles from Cape
Evans, and though we had hardly any grub with us, not having anticipated
the cliff or the saltness of the sea-ice, and having to set out to do the
journey in one day, I thought hunger in a sleeping-bag better than lying
out in a blizzard on less than one foot of young ice.

"After a meal we started off at 9.30 P.M. in a snowy mist in which we
could literally see nothing. It had fallen calm though, and at last we
could see the outline of the nearest of the Dellbridge Islands called the
Great Razorback; our course lay for a smaller island ahead called the
Little Razorback. As we neared the Little Razorback Island the snow hid
everything; in fact we could hardly see the island itself when we were
right under it. It was impossible to go wandering on, so we had after all
to camp on the sea-ice. There was scarcely any snow to put on the
valances of the tents, and the wet salt soaked the bags, and you knew
that there was only about six or ten inches of precarious ice between you
and the black waters beneath. Altogether I decided that I for one would
lie awake in such an insecure camp.

"As expected the blizzard overtook us shortly after midnight, and the
shrieking of the wind among the rocks above might have been pretty
unpleasant had it not assured me that we were still close to the island
and not moving seaward. Needless to say, I said that I was sure the camp
was as safe as a church. At daylight Taylor dived out and in until the
wind from the door blew out the ice valance and the next moment the tent
closed on us like an umbrella. We would never have spread it again had
not some of the drift settled round us, and so we were able to secure it
after an hour or two. The air was full of thick drift, and to work off
some of Taylor's energy I said we might climb the island and look for
Cape Evans.

"The island rose up straight from the sea at a sharp angle all round, and
we climbed it with difficulty. On the top we saw the reason of its name,
as it was absolutely so sharp right along that you could bestride the top
as though sitting in a saddle. It was too windy sitting up there to be
pleasant, so we descended, having seen nothing but clouds of flying snow,
and the peak of Inaccessible Island. At the bottom of the weather side we
found a small ledge perfectly flat and just big enough to take two tents
pitched close together. At this place the island made a wind buffer and
it was practically calm though the blizzard yelled all round. I urged
Captain Scott to camp on this ledge and Taylor fizzled for making for
Cape Evans, so Scott decided to ensure Taylor's safety, as he put it, and
we made for the ledge. Once there we had an ideal camp on good hard
ground and no wind, and had we had food the blizzard might have lasted a
week for aught I cared.

"We were two nights there and on the morning of the 13th it took off
enough for us to head for home. We saw Sunny Jim's
(Simpson's)
Observatory on the Hill, but still did not know how the hut had fared
till we got round the cape into North Bay. There was the Winter Station
all intact, however, and though North Bay had only just frozen in, it was
strong enough to bear us safely. Somebody saw us and in another moment
the hut poured out her little party, consisting of Sunny Jim, Ponting,
Nelson, Day, Lashly, Hooper, Clissold, Dimitri and Anton. Ponting's face
was a study as he ran up; he failed to recognize any of us and stopped
dead with a blank look—as he admitted afterwards, he thought it was the
Norwegian expedition for the space of a moment; and then we were all
being greeted as heartily as if we had really done something to be proud
of.

"The motors had had to be shifted, and a lot of gear placed higher up the
beach, but the water had never reached near the hut, so all was well.
Inside it looked tremendous, and we looked at our grimy selves in a glass
for the first time for three months; no wonder Ponting did not recognize
the ruffians. He photographed a group of us, which will amuse you some
day, when it is permissible to send photos. We ate heartily and had hot
baths and generally civilized ourselves. I have since concluded that the
hut is the finest place in the southern hemisphere, but then I could not
shake down to it at once. I hankered for a sleeping-bag out on the snow,
or for the blubbery atmosphere of Hut Point. I expect the truth of the
matter was that all my special pals, Bill, Cherry, Titus, and Atch, had
been left behind.

"We found eight ponies at Winter Quarters in the stable, Hackenschmidt
having died. These with our two at Hut Point left us with ten to start
the winter with. I at once looked out the other big Siberian horse that
had been a pair with my late lamented (they were the only Siberian
ponies, all the rest being Manchurians) and singled him out for myself,
should 'the powers that be' be willing.

"A party had to return to Hut Point with some provision in a day or two,
so I asked to go. Captain Scott had decided to go himself, but said he
would be very pleased if I would go too; so it being a fine day we left
the following Monday. The two teams consisted of Captain Scott, Lashly,
Day and Dimitri with one tent and sledge, and Crean, Hooper, Nelson and
myself with the other. We had it fine as far as the Glacier Tongue; and
then along came the cheery old south wind in our faces; we crossed the
Tongue and struggled against this till we could camp under the Hutton
Cliffs where we got some shelter. All of us had our faces frost-bitten,
the washing and shaving having made mine quite tender. It was a bit of a
job getting up the cliff: we had to stand on top of a pile of fallen ice
and hoist a 10-feet sledge on to our shoulders, at least on to the
shoulders of the tall ones; this just touched the overhanging cornice. A
cornice of snow is caused by continual drift over a sharp edge: it takes
all sorts of fantastic shapes, but usually hangs over like this. Looking
edgeways it looks as if it must fall down, but as a matter of fact is
usually very tough indeed. In this case steps were cut in it with an ice
axe from our extemporary ladder, and Captain Scott and I got up first.
With the aid of a rope and the ladder we got the light ones up first, and
hauled up the gear last of all; hanging the sledge from the top with one
rope enabled the last two to struggle up it assisted by a rope round them
from above. It was a cold job and more frost-bites occurred in two of our
novices, one on a foot and the other on a finger.

"We faced the blast again, but got it partially behind us on reaching the
Heights. We camped for the night under Castle Rock on an inclined slope.
It calmed down to a glorious night with a low temperature. Crean and I
lay head down hill to make Nelson and Hooper—who had never sledged
before—more comfortable. As a result Crean slipped half out of the tent
and let in a cold stream of air under the valance, for which I was at a
loss to account until the morning disclosed him thus, fast asleep of
course. It takes a lot to worry Captain Scott's coxswain.

"We arrived at Hut Point and had a great reception there, chiefly on
account of the food we brought, particularly the sugar. We had been
living on some paraffin sugar when I left before, and even this was
finished. The next day we stayed there to kill seals. Cherry and I
skinned one and then went for a walk round Cape Armitage. It was blowing
big guns off the cape, fairly fizzing in fact. We went as far as Pram
Point and then turned, coming in with it behind us. I only had a thin
balaclava and my ears were nearly nipped."
[127]

*

Meanwhile those of us who had been left at Hut Point with the ponies and
dogs journeyed out one afternoon to Safety Camp to get some more bales of
compressed fodder. Easter Sunday we spent in a howling blizzard, which
cleared in the afternoon sufficiently to see a golden sun sinking into a
sea of purple frost-smoke and drift.

I have it on record that we had tinned haddock this day for breakfast,
made by Oates with great care, a biscuit and cheese hoosh for lunch, and
a pemmican fry this evening, followed by cocoa with a tin of sweetened
Nestlé's milk in it, truly a great luxury. For the rest we mended our
finnesko, and read Bleak House. Meares told us how the Chinese who were
going to war with the Lolos (who are one of the Eighteen tribes on the
borders of Thibet and China) tied the Lolo hostage to a bench, and,
having cut his throat, caught the blood which dripped from it. Into this
they dipped their flag, and then cut out the heart and liver, which the
officers ate, while the men ate the rest!

Other books

Nanjing Requiem by Ha Jin
Bech at Bay by John Updike
Whispers of Murder by Cheryl Bradshaw
Bloodbreeders: Seeking Others by Ray, Robin Renee
A Vampire’s Mistress by Theresa Meyers
Reformers to Radicals by Thomas Kiffmeyer
Cars 2 by Irene Trimble