The Worst Journey in the World (61 page)

"Before reaching the rise we had to go up and down many steep slopes, and
on the one side the sledges were overrunning us, and on the other it
fairly took the juice out of you to reach the top. We saw the
stratification on the nunatak which Shackleton supposed to be coal: there
was also much sandstone and red granite. I should like to have scratched
round these rocks: we may get a chance on our return journey. As we
topped each rise we found another one beyond it, and so on.

"About noon some clouds settled in a fog round us, and being fairly in a
trough of crevasses we could not get on. Fortunately we found a snow
patch to pitch the tents on, but even there were crevasses under us.
However, we enjoyed a hearty lunch, and I improved the shining hour by
preparing my rations for the Upper Glacier Depôt.

"At 3 P.M. it cleared, and Mount Darwin, a nunatak to the S.W. of the
others, could be seen. This we made for, and some two miles on exchanged
blue ice for the new snow which was much harder pulling. Scott was fairly
wound up, and he went on and on. Every rise topped seemed to fire him
with a desire to top the next, and every rise had another beyond and
above it. We camped at 8 P.M., all pretty weary, having come up nearly
1500 feet, and done over eleven miles in a S.W. direction. We were south
of Mount Darwin in 85° 7' S., and our corrected altitude proved to be
7000 feet above the Barrier. I worked up till a very late hour getting
the depôt stores ready, and also weighing out and arranging allowances
for the returning party, and arranging the stores and distribution of
weights of the two parties going on. The temperature was down to zero
to-day, the lowest it has been for some time this summer weather."
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"There is a very mournful air to-night—those going on and those turning
back. Bill came in while I was cooking, to say good-bye. He told me he
fully expected to come back with the next party: that he could see Scott
was going to take on the strongest fellows, perhaps three seamen. It
would be a great disappointment if Bill did not go on."
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We gave away any gear which we could spare to those going on, and I find
the following in my diary:

"I have been trying to give away my spare gear where it may be most
acceptable: finnesko to Birdie, pyjama trousers to Bill, and a bag of
baccy for Bill to give Scott on Christmas Day, some baccy to Titus,
jaeger socks and half my scarf to Crean, and a bit of handkerchief to
Birdie. Very tired to-night."

Scott wrote: "We are struggling on, considering all things against odds.
The weather is a constant anxiety, otherwise arrangements are working
exactly as planned.

"Here we are practically on the summit and up to date in the provision
line. We ought to get through."
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People, perhaps, still exist who believe that it is of no
importance to explore the unknown polar regions. This, of course,
shows ignorance. It is hardly necessary to mention here of what
scientific importance it is that these regions should be
thoroughly explored. The history of the human race is a continual
struggle from darkness towards light. It is, therefore, to no
purpose to discuss the use of knowledge; man wants to know, and
when he ceases to do so, he is no longer man.—NANSEN.

III. THE PLATEAU FROM MOUNT DARWIN TO LAT. 87° 32' S.

First Sledge
Second Sledge
SCOTT LIEUT. EVANS
WILSON BOWERS
OATES LASHLY
SEAMAN EVANS CREAN

For the first week on the plateau Bowers wrote a full diary, which I give
below. After December 28 there are little more than fragmentary notes
until January 19, the day the party started to return from the Pole. From
then until January 25, he wrote fully; nothing after that until January
29, followed by more fragments to "February 3rd (I suppose)." That is the
last entry he made.

But this is not surprising, even in a man of Bowers' energy. The time a
man can give to writing under such conditions is limited, and Bowers had
a great deal of it to do before he could think of a diary—the
meteorological log; sights for position as well as rating sights for
time; and all the routine work of weights, provisions and depôts. He
wrote no diary at the Pole, but he made a very full meteorological report
while there in addition to working out sights. The wonder is that he kept
a diary at all.

From Bowers' Diary

December 22.
Midsummer Day.
We have had a brilliant day with a
temperature about zero and no wind, altogether charming conditions. I
rigged up the Upper Glacier Depôt after breakfast. We depôted two
half-weekly units for return of the two parties, also all crampons and
glacier gear, such as ice-axes, crowbar, spare Alpine rope, etc.,
personal gear, medical, and in fact everything we could dispense with. I
left my old finnesko, wind trousers and some other spare gear in a bag
for going back.

The two advance parties' weights amounted to 190 lbs. per man. They
consisted of the permanent weights, twelve weeks' food and oil, spare
sledge runners, etc. We said good-bye and sent back messages and photo
films with the First Returning Party, which consisted of Atch, Cherry,
Silas and Keohane. It was quite touching saying farewell to our good
pals—they wished us luck, and Cherry, Atch and Silas quite overwhelmed
me.

We went forward, the Owner's team as before consisting of Dr. Bill, Titus
and
(Seaman)
Evans, and
(Lieut.)
Teddy Evans and Lashly coming over to my
sledge and tent to join up with Crean and myself. We all left the depôt
cairn marked with two spare 10-feet sledge runners and a large black flag
on one. Our morning march was not so long as usual owing to making up the
depôt, but we did five miles uphill, hauling our heavier loads more
easily than the lighter ones yesterday. A fall in the temperature had
improved the surface. We had also sandpapered our runners after the
tearing up they had had on the glacier; this made a tremendous
difference. The afternoon march brought our total up to 10.6 miles for
the day on a S.W. course.

We are steering S.W. with a view to avoiding ice-falls which Shackleton
met with. We came across very few crevasses; the few we found were as
broad as a street, and crossing them the whole party, sledge and all,
would be on the bridge at once. They only gave way at the edges, and we
did nothing worse than put our feet through now and then. The surface is
all snow now, névé and hard sastrugi, which seem to point to a strong
prevalent S.S.E. wind here.

We are well clear of the land now, and it is a beautiful evening. I have
just taken six photographs of the Dominion Range. We can see many new
mountains. Our position by observation is 85° 13' 29" S., 161° 54' 45"
E., variation being 175° 45'.

December 23. Turned out at usual time, 5.45 A.M. I am cook this week in
our tent. After breakfast built two cairns to mark spot and shoved off at
quarter to eight.

We started up a big slope on a S.W. course to avoid the pressure which
lay across our track to the southward. It was a pretty useful slog up the
rise, at one time it seemed as if we would never top the slope. We
stopped for five minutes to look round after 2½ hours' hard plugging and
about 1½ hours later reached the top, from which we could see the distant
mountains which have so recently been our companions. They are beginning
to look pretty magnificent. The top of the great pressure ridge was
running roughly S.E. and N.W.: it was one of a succession of ridges which
probably cover an area of fifty or sixty square miles. In this
neighbourhood Shackleton met them almost to 86½° south. At the top of the
ridge were vast crevasses into which we could have dropped the Terra Nova
easily. The bridges were firm, however, except at the sides, though we
had frequent stumbles into the conservatory roof, so to speak. The
sledges were rushed over them without mishap. We had to head farther west
to clear disturbances, and at one time were going W.N.W.

At lunch camp we had done 8½ miles, and in the afternoon we completed
fifteen on a S.W. course over improved ground. Our routine is to actually
haul our sledges for nine hours a day; five in the morning, 7.15 A.M.
till 1 P.M.; and four in the afternoon, 2.30 P.M.-6.30 P.M. We turn out
at 5.45 A.M. just now. The loads are still pretty heavy, but the surface
is remarkably good considering all things. One gets pretty weary towards
the end of the day; all my muscles have had their turn at being
(stiffened)
up. These hills are giving my back ones a reminder, but they
will ache less to-morrow and finally cease to do so, as is the case with
legs, etc., which had their turn first.

December 24.
Christmas Eve.
We started off heading due south this
morning, as we are many miles to the westward of Shackleton's course and
should if anywhere be clear of the ice-falls and pressure. Of course no
mortals having been here, one can only conjecture; as a matter of fact,
we found later in the day that we were not clear by any means, and had to
do a bit of dodging about to avoid disturbances, as well as mount vast
ridges with the tops of them a chaos of crevasses. The tops are pretty
hard ice-snow, over which the sledges run easily; it is quite a holiday
after slogging up the slopes on the softer surface with our heavy loads,
which amount to over 190 lbs. per man.

We mark our night camp by two cairns and our lunch camp by single ones.
It is doubtful, however, among these ridges, if we will ever pick them up
again, and it does not really matter, as we have excellent land for the
Upper Glacier Depôt. We completed fourteen miles and turned in as usual
pretty tired.

December 25.
Christmas Day.
A strange and strenuous Christmas for me,
with plenty of snow to look at and very little else. The breeze that had
blown in our faces all yesterday blew more freshly to-day, with surface
drift. It fairly nipped one's nose and face starting off—until one got
warmed up. We had to pull in wind blouses, as though one's body kept warm
enough on the march the arms got numbed with the penetrating wind no
matter how vigorously they were swung. Another thing is that one cannot
stop the team on the march to get clothes on and off, so it is better to
go the whole hog and be too hot than cause delays. We had the addition of
a little pony meat for breakfast to celebrate the day. I am the cook of
our tent this week.

We steered south again and struck our friends the crevasses and climbed
ridges again. About the middle of the morning we were all falling in
continually, but Lashly in my team had the worst drop. He fell to the
length of his harness and the trace. I was glad that having noticed his
rope rather worn, I had given him a new one a few days before. He jerked
Crean and me off our feet backwards, and Crean's harness being jammed
under the sledge, which was half across an eight-feet bridge, he could do
nothing. I was a little afraid of sledge and all going down, but
fortunately the crevasse ran diagonally. We could not see Lashly, for a
great overhanging piece of ice was over him. Teddy Evans and I cleared
Crean and we all three got Lashly up with the Alpine rope cut into the
snow sides which overhung the hole. We then got the sledge into safety.

To-day is Lashly's birthday; he is married and has a family; is 44 years
of age, and due for his pension from the service. He is as strong as most
and is an undefeated old sportsman. Being a chief stoker, R.N., his
original job was charge of one of the ill-fated motor sledges.

The following is Lashly's own account:

"Christmas Day and a good one. We have done 15 miles over a very changing
surface. First of all it was very much crevassed and pretty rotten; we
were often in difficulties as to which way we should tackle it. I had the
misfortune to drop clean through, but was stopped with a jerk when at the
end of my harness. It was not of course a very nice sensation, especially
on Christmas Day, and being my birthday as well. While spinning round in
space like I was it took me a few seconds to gather together my thoughts
and see what kind of a place I was in. It certainly was not a fairy's
place. When I had collected myself I heard some one calling from above,
'Are you all right, Lashly?' I was all right it is true, but I did not
care to be dangling in the air on a piece of rope, especially when I
looked round and saw what kind of a place it was. It seemed about 50 feet
deep and 8 feet wide, and 120 feet long. This information I had ample
time to gain while dangling there. I could measure the width with my ski
sticks, as I had them on my wrists. It seemed a long time before I saw
the rope come down alongside me with a bowline in it for me to put my
foot in and get dragged out. It was not a job I should care to have to go
through often, as by being in the crevasse I had got cold and a bit
frost-bitten on the hands and face, which made it more difficult for me
to help myself. Anyhow Mr. Evans, Bowers and Crean hauled me out and
Crean wished me many happy returns of the day, and of course I thanked
him politely and the others laughed, but all were pleased I was not hurt
bar a bit of a shake. It was funny although they called to the other team
to stop they did not hear, but went trudging on and did not know until
they looked round just in time to see me arrive on top again. They then
waited for us to come up with them. The Captain asked if I was all right
and could go on again, which I could honestly say 'Yes' to, and at night
when we stopped for dinner I felt I could do two dinners in. Anyhow we
had a pretty good tuck-in. Dinner consisted of pemmican, biscuits,
chocolate éclair, pony meat, plum pudding and crystallized ginger and
four caramels each. We none of us could hardly move."
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