The Worst Journey in the World

Extract from this amazing book Bob Goddess leant us and which I highly recommend

Antarctic 1910-1913
By Apsley Cherry-Garrard

At 24 years of age, he was the youngest member of the expedition to discover the Antarctic.

I quote from Cherry’s book--

“Exploration is the physical expression of the Intellectual Passion.

And I tell you, if you have the desire for knowledge and the power to give it physical expression, go out and explore. If you are a brave man you will do nothing: if you are fearful you may do much, for none but cowards have need to prove their bravery. Some will tell you that you are mad, and nearly all will say, ‘What is the use?’ For we are a nation of shopkeepers, and no shopkeepers will look at research which does not promise him a financial return within a year. And so you will sledge nearly alone, but those with whom you sledge will not be shopkeepers: that is worth a good deal. If you march your Winter Journeys you will have your reward, so long as all you want is a penguin’s egg.”

This is how Cherry ended his book—a moving and tragic and beautifully sensitive account of R.F Scott’s British expedition to the Antarctic.
Scott’s goal was more than to be the first to reach the South Pole. It was also to discover—through science-- as much as possible about the area and habitat, and to bring this back to England.

Roald Amundsen--the Norwegian explorer-- had intended to go north, however turned around and left Scott a message saying that he would meet him in the South. For Amundsen this was to be a race. And he succeeded to beat Scott to the Pole by one month. He reached the Pole December 16, 1912. Scott reached the Pole around January 17, 1913.

Amundsen was successful, not only because of extraordinary qualities, but because he took a risk and a chance. He risked that the Bay of Whales would be as good or better a place to start than from Ross Island, in McMurdo Sound (Scott’s start point). And he chanced on a route through the mountains from the Barrier plateau other than the one that Scott and Shackleton had previously established, and he used dogs to pull his loads all the way.

All five men on Scott’s Polar Party died on the return from the Pole: Seaman Edgar Evans—the strongest of them all--died first at the foot of the Beardmore Glacier just below the Lower Glacier Depot. Captain L.E.G. Oates—32 years old--was next. He died two-thirds of the way from Upper Glacier Depot to One Ton Depot, walking out of the tent to his death in a blizzard so the others could be saved. Dr. E.A. Wilson and Lieut H.R. Bowers—39 and 28 years old, respectively--died within a short time of each other in the tent 11 miles from One Ton Depot. Scott—43 years old--died last in the same tent, not long after the others it is assumed.

These are the Long-Lats of the Depots--after leaving the Pole--and location of the Polar Party member’s deaths (One Ton depot is furthest from the Pole):

One Ton (79 Degrees.29’) Wilson, Bowers, and Scott died 11 miles south of One Ton depot, i.e., before reaching the depot.
Upper Barrier or Mount Hooper (80 Degrees.32’) Oates died 2/3rds the way from Upper Barrier to One Ton depot.
Middle Barrier (81 Degrees.35’)
Lower Barrier (82 Degrees.47’)
Shambles Camp (N. of Gateway)
Lower Glacier (S. of Gateway) (Seaman Evans died just south of here on Beardmore Glacier).
Middle Glacier (Cloudmaker)
Upper Glacier (Mt. Darwin)
Three Degree (86 Degrees.56’)
1 ½ Degree (88 Degrees.29’)
Last Depot (89 Degrees.32’)
South Pole

It is presumed they died from the severe cold and virtual starvation. The weather was unusually brutal for the March season—up to -47 degrees Fahr-- and the hard Barrier surface took a toll on the sledge runners they were man hauling; Evans, Oates and Bowers were extremely frost bitten; oil supply at Upper Barrier Depot was short (for unknown reasons) resulting in insufficient fuel for cooking and heating; and although they were on just-about full rations, food requirement at those temperatures was insufficient for the amount of energy they were exerting. It consisted of mainly biscuits, pemmican, butter, cocoa, sugar, and tea: 34.43 ounces daily per man.

Unlike Amundsen, Scott did not use dogs to haul his load all the way: rather he used mules and dogs and then man-hauled sledges on skis. He also had planned for a 4-man polar party having a 4-man tent , cooking supplies for 4, and 4 pairs of skis. But at the last minute he decided to include Seaman Evans, the strongest man in the expedition. This decision added to the suffering and demise of all. One man always had to walk pulling—and this for way over two months.

With three people left in the tent now on March 21, 1913--and too weak to haul the sledge in the cold--Wilson and Bowers were going to walk the 11 miles to One Ton Depot for rations. But a nine-day blizzard kept all three in the tent. They died by March 29.

From Cherry’s diary:

“Bill especially had died very quietly with his hands folded over his chest. Birdie (Bowers) also quietly. Oates’ death was a very fine one.’

I continue from Cherry’s chapter on The Search Journey and having found them:

“That scene can never leave my memory. We with the dogs had seen Wright turn away from the course by himself and the mule party swerve right-handed ahead of us. He had seen what he thought was a cairn, and then something looking black by its side. A vague kind of wonder gradually gave way to a real alarm. We came up to them all halted. Wright came across to us. ‘It is the tent.’ I do not know how he knew. Just a waste of snow: to our right the remains of one of last year’s cairns, a mere mound: and then three feet of bamboo sticking quite alone out of the snow and then another mound, of snow, perhaps a trifle more pointed. We walked up to it. I do not think we quite realized—not for very long—but someone reached up to a projection of snow, and brushed it away. The green flap of the ventilator of the tent appeared, and we knew that the door was below.

Two of us entered, through the funnel of the outer tent, and through the bamboos on which was stretched the lining of the inner tent. There was some snow—not much—between the two linings. But inside we could see nothing—the snow had drifted out the light. There was nothing to do but to dig the tent out. Soon we could see the outlines. There were three men here.

Bowers and Wilson were sleeping in their bags. Scott had thrown back the flaps of his bag at the end. His left hand was stretched over Wilson, his lifelong friend. Beneath the head of his bag, between the bag and the floor-cloth, was the green wallet in which he carried his diary. The brown books of diary were inside: and on the floor-cloth were some letters.

Everything was tidy. The tent had been pitched as well as ever, with the door facing down the sastrugi, the bamboos with a good spread, the tent itself taut and ship-shape. There was snow inside the inner lining. There were some loose pannikins from the cooker, the ordinary tent gear, the personal belongings and a few more letters and records—personal and scientific. Near Scott was a lamp formed from a tin and some lamp wick off a finnesko. It had been used to burn the little methylated spirit which remained. I think that Scott had used it to help him to write up to the end. I feel sure that he had died last—and once I had thought that he would not go so far as some of the others. We never realized how strong that man was, mentally and physically, until now.

We sorted out the gear, records, papers, diaries, spare clothing, letters, chronometers, finnesko, socks, a flag. There was even a book which I had lent Bill for the journey—and he had brought it back. Somehow we learnt that Amundsen had been to the Pole, and that they too had been to the Pole, and both items of news seemed to be of no importance whatever. There was a letter there from Amundsen to King Haakon. There were the personal chatty little notes we had left for them on the Beardmore—how much more important to us than all the royal letters in the world.

We dug down the bamboo which had brought us to this place. It led to the sledge, many feet down, and had been rigged there as a mast. And on the sledge were some more odds and ends—a piece of paper from the biscuit box: Bowers’s meteorological log: and the geological specimens, thirty pounds of them, all of the first importance. Drifted over also were the harnesses, ski and ski-sticks.

Hour after hours, so it seemed to me, Atkinson sat in our tent and read. The finder was to read the diary and then it was to be brought home—these were Scott’s instructions written on the cover. But Atkinson said he was only going to read sufficient to know what had happened—and after that they were brought home unopened and unread. When he had the outline we all gathered together and he read to us the Message to the Public, and the account of Oates’s death, which Scott had expressly wished to be known.

We never moved them. We took the bamboos of the tent away, and the tent itself covered them. An over them we built the cairn.

I do not know how long we were there, but when all was finished, and the chapter of Corinthians had been read, it was midnight of same day. The sun was dipping low above the Pole, the Barrier was almost in shadow. And the sky was blazing—sheets and sheets of iridescent clouds. The cairn and Cross stood dark against a glory of burnished gold.” Page 497.

I close this posting with--

Cherry’s selection of quotes at the beginning of Chapter Four LAND and Chapter Nine THE POLAR JOURNEY, respectively.

LAND

Beyond this flood a frozen continent
Lies dark and wilde, beat with perpetual storms
Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land
Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems
Of ancient pile, all else deep snow and ice….
MILTON, Paradise Lost, II

THE POLAR JOURNEY

Come my friends,
Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

TENNYSON, Ulysses

NOTES:

TENNYSON’S LINE--To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield—was inscribed on a more permanent cross set on a hill before members of Scott’s last Antarctic Expedition left for New Zealand on the ship, the Terra Nova.

OIL SHORTAGE--The reason for a shortage of oil at the depot before where Scott died, is perhaps a result of paraffin creeping or seeping through the bung corks of the tins as they shook around on the sledges en route over rough places to the various depots.

WILSON--Scott’s life-long friend, was instrumental in getting Cherry accepted as a member of the Antarctic expedition.

GLOSSARY for two terms, taken from the book.

“Finnesko are boots made entirely of fur, soles and all.”

“Sastrugi are the furrows or irregularities formed on a snow plain by the wind. They may be a foot or more deep and as hard and as slippery as ice: they may be quite soft: they may appear as great inverted pudding bowls: they may be hard knots covered with soft powdery snow.” Page 599.

Thank you, Bob Goddess, for sharing this amazing story with us, and indirectly a piece of your Antarctic journey. We will return the book some day.

Until then, in our singular fashion, we too will follow our desire for knowledge and strive to give it some brush stroke of physical expression. We will sail beyond the sunset and strive and seek and find and not yield. We will march our own winter journeys to explore and reap reward in small discovery, be it only the colours of a new dawn on a distant shore. Perhaps, too, we will find a penguin's egg.

We wish the same for you.

Marilyn
Yacht Zulu