Log Entry No 14 - 14th Jan 08. (Discoverer)
A RETROSPECTIVE ACCOUNT OF THE LAST 14 DAYS ASHORE
(A legitimate on board criticism of this posting, covering a fortnight’s activity, is its length which is much longer than recent postings: you may therefore wish to read it in two parts or over coffee. Alternatively skip the background, go straight to “ashore” and skim through it at speed – either way I commend the final page from the (not so) novice pulkers.)
Looking across the Trooz Glacier.
BACKGROUND. The tradition of recent Service expeditions into this region draws on a legacy which dates back more than 50 years and has successfully combined exploration and field studies. It is an approach and ethos that we strive to maintain through our own exploits. The Danco Coast was named over 100 years ago by The Belgium Antarctic Expedition of 1897/99 and today is frequently visited by cruise ships. One of the characteristics of this coastline is the steep ice cliffs and glaciers that fall into the sea that make landing problematic. Few expeditions make it beyond the coastal landing sites although there are notable exceptions, such as the late Sir Wally Herbert, whose support for us was so invaluable and appreciated, and the now almost forgotten “fids”, (FIDS, the Falkland Islands Dependence Survey and forerunner of BAS, The British Antarctic Survey, nicknamed themselves “fids”). The hinterland of the Antarctic Peninsula plateau in this region is named the Forbidden Plateau, a name that accurately conveys these difficulties. Previous BAAE expeditions have succeeded in reaching and exploring the northern approaches and indeed manhauling across the Forbidden Plateau but its southern approaches remain substantially unexplored or even visited.
Drawing on the sledging diaries of fids expeditions in the late 1950’s, we were able to piece together the existing knowledge of these southern approaches. Time precludes a detailed description of the exploits of these men, but suffice to say that working in the Waddington Bay area they had successfully pushed 8 miles inland and explored a number of the surrounding glaciers and ridges. Their achievements are a testimony to endurance and determination as well as an inspiration to “we youngsters”. Benefiting from the advantages of studying satellite photography we were able, primarily thanks to Louise’s literature trawls, to identify potential routes beyond fids’s reconnaissance. All roads led to the Trooz and Sumner Glaciers. If and it’s a BIG IF, there lay a route then it might be possible to explore the northern edges of The Bruce Plateau and the southern of the Forbidden Plateau.
In exploratory objectives Waddington Bay took on a significant importance, balanced by the realistic caution of uncertainty over prevailing and unpredictable sea ice and snow conditions. Despite our limited communications with Discoverer, regular readers will by now know that we did not break out on to the plateau but this log tells in greater detail the story of the fortnight’s adventure.
The landing has already been described in log 7 and it ran like clockwork. Its only appropriate to add that the efficient and calm manner in which Andy handled the yacht and Rob H and Jamie the MIB (inflatable) in this, our first, landing of a sustained shore party hampered by moderate ice in confined waters enabled the whole venture. Like so many of these landing sites there is an immediate sharp steep climb in very wet and cruddy snow, thus ensuring that however careful one is in stepping ashore with dry feet, the result is short lived! Standing on the crest of the rise we watched as once more Discoverer headed out into open water and the sanctuary of the Argentine Islands (as well of course as the hospitality of the Ukrainians at Vernadsky – what used to be the BAS Faraday base).
ASHORE, tents were pitched and we settled into the frugal routine of Antarctic tent living. Early the following morning Chris, Martin and Richard C set off to reconnoitre the route forward, whilst the remainder moved the snow corer to a suitable location to set about our first sampling. Whilst James, Steve and Louise started to bore our first core sample, Conor, Geordie and Dick set off to conduct a geological reconnaissance of the area. In the evening we were able to take stock of our results; the corer had hit ice at 1.5 m (well short of our tgt snow depth of 10 meters but a useful result in its own right), the first few geological samples were recorded and future target areas identified and the route forward towards the Trooz identified. Armed with this knowledge, we were able to set direction for the next few days. The following morning the field studies party set off to establish a camp some 2 miles inland and pursue an intensive 5 days of study which has been described previously in log 9. The remainder started the complimentary processes of pushing the route forward whilst bringing up the all important logistic essentials of fuel; food for people and petrol for cookers. These supplies – the basis of life are dragged on one man sledges called pulks. Pulks vary in load and size but typically on this journey, they include food and fuel for 24 days but given the potential length of the stay and journey it was not unusually to have up to 36 days with fuel. Fuel is stored in 5 litre green plastic containers – like the spare fuel tank in the boot of your car – each tent of 3 uses about ¾ of a litre per day.
Descriptions of pulking can never capture the reality of participation; if you have ever taken part move on quickly and try not to be haunted by the memory – unless someone is inviting you to partake, in which case recall immediately and decline. If it is new to you then imagine the caricature of the most sadistic Sergeant Major revelling in setting the most physically and mentally demanding punishment, relentless back breaking work with no apparent progress and no prospect of parole. The hours let alone the days merge. Pulks are regularly rechristened with unprintable names. Get the picture?
Louise with pulk.
Notwithstanding this torture we made steady progress along the Wiggins Glacier, and across the crevasses of The Bussey Glacier. In 3 days we pushed the route forward. Our furthest forward was at the same place as fids’s. Our main supplies were only a day behind, do I mean “only”?
On New Year’s Eve we crammed 6 people into one tent (described as a 2/3 man tent!) and held a council of war. Ahead we would be breaking genuinely new ground, we could already see crevasse fields, avalanche slopes and airy, precarious seracs. All would need the utmost respect to be successfully negotiated. At the same time our enforced delayed departure from The Falkland Islands had reduced our time lines, we knew that we had only a few days to find the elusive route out onto the plateau. We decided to make a light weight (what ever that means!?!) push forward, by travelling faster(?!?) we could cover more ground and if we found the route within the next 4-5 days still have time to come back and bring forward supplies for a longer stay and attempt to break out north to The Forbidden Plateau. If we could not find the route then we would have less distance to manhaul supplies back to the coast. The only loser would be our personal fitness and weight loss programme. So resolved, we reached outside the tent flap to retrieve a bottle of Whisky, a little earlier than local time but in line with UK time we toasted the new year in and despite the cramped physical surrounding paused to find private time to think of loved ones far away. It certainly won’t be our preferred venue or company for next year, but the memory will stay with us and if next year you catch us for a brief moment with our thoughts elsewhere then please forgive us because looking around the faces of that tent revealed a very special atmosphere. So belatedly we wish you all a very happy New Year.
Happy New Year!
Thus galvanised, we embarked next morning on our journey. In order to maximise the window open to us, we pulked forward further rations and camped just short of the most serious seracs encountered to date. Snow conditions are generally more stable in the early morning. So early the following morning (2nd January) we were up at 0400 and away by 0600, we moved steadily under the seracs and onto the Trooz Glacier. Away from the initial dangers we halted and surveyed the route ahead.
It’s worth the effort.
A mixed blessing of our recent experience has been unusually warm weather, indeed one might almost say hot. The more experienced hands are flabbergasted and the less so delighted and perhaps even doubting of our horror stories. The downside is the dramatic and unwelcome deterioration in snow quality. Safe movement relies on stable snow conditions, any weakening makes movement more difficult as people and pulk break the surface crust and sink into the soft wet mush below. The consequences of crossing snow bridges over crevasses in such conditions can be traumatic. The same conditions increase the risk of avalanche. An additional issue is the strong ultra violet reflection and associated problems. Sun cream briefs well, but in reality is soon sweated away. By mid day we were camped and seeking what ever shade we could find in our tents and rehydrating as much as possible.
The routine continued and as we progressed so our levels of optimism changed reflecting the latest view of the ground ahead. On 3rd January we reached camp 5. Unusually we had been working in clagg (clagg is the mountaineers word for low cloud and reduced visibility but short of total white out.) and conscious of the crevasse field ahead which had previously been identified, we halted and set up camp. We knew that we had 2 days to probe for routes out to The Bruce Plateau. We also knew that snow conditions demanded an early start...
Chris in the clagg.
PART TWO
We were up at midnight and underway by 0130 in biting cold conditions. Progress was steady as we made our way through crevasse fields and snow ramps and slowly gained height. Occasionally ski poles broke through the snow bridges to reveal icy crevasses below. Around us avalanches and serac falls broke the morning silence. By 0500 we had reached broken ground and climbed a snow covered ice block to gain a better view. We searched left and right to identify a potential route and nothing looked encouraging or particularly safe. We decided to retrace our footsteps and try further to the right. We moved off. Then it happened. It appeared in unwelcome slow motion but in reality it was instant; one moment he was there, and the next gone. Thirty feet below the surface Steve hung by a rope on his harness. Tired limbs were rejuvenated by adrenaline. Our focus changed from route reconnaissance to recovery as the reality of training kicked in and we fought to secure an anchor point. We assessed the options and started to enact the rescue. Chris, belayed by Richard, moved to the edge of the crevasse to asses Steve’s condition. With a smile he reported Steve uninjured and in the process of sorting out his camera for some “great shots”.
Fifty five minutes later smiles and hand shakes welcomed him to the surface. His emergence was as much due to his efforts of self rescue with ice axe and crampons as ours with pulleys and hoists. It may not have been a classic text book rescue but it worked, in fact it all seemed matter of fact, and in a sense it was, crevasse falls are as much a fact of life for mountaineers, as car accidents are for drivers.
Steve Continues with his personal account.
“We had been crossing a large number of crevasses for over an hour and the tension had been building as we gained height and thought we were within a stones throw of our ‘holy grail’ the Bruce Plateau. Louise had been leading and following a hurried conference with Dick, decided the route ahead was too heavily crevassed, I was at the rear of the rope, so started to reverse our route. I moved back over the nearest snow bridge and looked down to see my ski tips sinking into powdery snow. The next I knew was a blue / white blur and a cold sensation on my back and a sudden stop. I opened my eyes, looked around and realised I had joined the head under club. I was currently stood on a tenuous snow bridge that had formed in the crevasse, it was a great relief to realise I wasn’t swinging in mid air wrapped around the rope! The good news was that the rope connecting me to Dick Pattison was tight and to be honest I knew I couldn’t have a better or bigger person as an anchor!
My right ski pole and mitten had been ripped off in the fall and my hands were rapidly going cold and I knew if my hands became useless I would be very little use to the rescue attempt from above. By then the realisation of my predicament had hit me and I started to shout to my team above. They never did hear me and that made the isolation very real. After securing any loose kit to the rope or myself to ensure it didn’t disappear further down the crevasse, if my situation worsened, I started looking up through the chasm I was encased in and realised I had a great photo opportunity and quickly seized the moment. It was then that a very welcome sight peered over the crevasse lip, my apprehension eased immensely when I saw Chris smiling down at me, and I think he was as pleased to see me in one piece as I was to see my rescue team in action. Believe me it was a great relief and comfort to know that everyone topside was very well practiced in crevasse rescue. I knew I would be back with my pulk a lot sooner than I would usually like to admit!
The rest of the incident was managed quickly and effectively, The rescue method wasn’t precisely one we had practised, but then every situation, is different and relies on applying common sense and techniques; it worked, much to my relief!”
From the inside looking out.
Back on the surface, the first warming rays of morning suns warmed our stiffened bodies. The warmth was tinged with disappointment. The ground ahead remained uncrossed and the snow strength would even now be starting to weaken. With over 1800 feet of ascent to reconnoitre and with no clear route ahead, we gingerly retraced our steps back to camp and to consider what next.
A brew always puts a better perspective on life. Once more we mulled our options. The crevasse incident was not by itself a show stopper, but it did illustrate the weakness of the snow, which could only be expected to deteriorate further, and we now better understood the difficult nature of the ground ahead. Even if we did find a route then would it be a practical one that we could use to move significant loads forward? Critically would this be the best use of our time and effort? There were no certainties either way but we could only deal in likely outcomes drawing on our general Antarctic experience as well as our current “gut feel”. Importantly we had to place this foray in the context of the overall aim of the expedition.
The arguments were all stacking up against pursuing this particular objective. It is never easy to give up an ambition but sometimes its the best course of action and we have always known (the more so since the time available reduced) that we would be extremely unlikely to complete all of our potential objectives. So as one door closed another opened.
No one, so far as we can tell, has ever visited this area and rather than passing through en route, we now had the opportunity to make a detailed record of the area. Even as amateur geologists, all be it under Conor’s excellent tutorage, we had been struck by the sometimes obvious nature of the changing rocks. Detailed sampling would surely add value to the projects that we are already supporting. (Previous BAAE sampling has already contributed to rewriting the geological history and understanding of this area with its wider significance.) Although without the snow corer, we could still dig snow pits to record layers and look at what lay below us. (Why do so many Army activities involve a shovel?)
Shovels at the ready!
Technology also offered an opportunity to complete a detailed photographic record of the area, not just a series of scenery shots but by linking camera to GPS and recording detailed bearings and arcs, we could create a worthwhile panorama of the entire glacier and its tributaries. This all sounds easy but of course its not without difficulties. Almost all the rock faces were in difficult and sometimes dangerous conditions. Geological raids would need careful planning and considerable commitment. Compiling worthwhile panoramas would require skiing to vantage points and not merely plodding home. The whole would need to be accurately and systematically recorded, so that it could be accurately reconstructed. This was no light undertaking.
Over the next 6 days we set about our task with determination and conscientiousness. Geology raids were timed for 0200 in the morning when avalanche risk would be less, but the cold more bitter. We worked with improvised tools and shifted cubic meters of snow as we dug down to examine snow layers. Blistered feet trudged to off route vantage points to get the “right” view. At the same time we withdrew down the glacier back towards the sanctuary of the coast. Mindful of the privilege and responsibility of “taking nothing but photographs and leaving nothing but foot prints”, all that had been pulked in had to be pulked out. (We are of course licensed as a properly construed scientific expedition to remove rock samples.) So loads increased as we cleared caches.
About to commence a rock raid.
On 9 January in mid afternoon we arrived back at the coast tired but satisfied. Below us in Waddington Bay tourists from a cruise ship were Zodiac Cruising through the ice bergs. We chatted briefly with their expedition leader on the VHF radio and then set camp for the last time on this foray. Later in the evening we chatted briefly with Discoverer and watched as she slipped into the Argentine Islands. Before turning in we shared the last of our whisky and reflected on a job well done.
Martin reflecting on a job well done.
The next morning we were reunited with the mother ship and laughed with friends as we caught up with each others tales and thoughts turned to future plans...
Dick Pattison
Chris and Louise – the (not so) novice pulker’s view.
We didn’t read the small print on the expedition advert. No one mentioned pulking. We won’t make that mistake again.
Initially pleased to be selected for the Plateau Team, euphoria soon wore off as we hauled (in cut off sailing wellies to preserve the dryness of our ski boots – not recommended as looks amateurish in photos, encourages frost bite and alarmed the Ukrainians we passed en-route) our kit and rations up the initial steep ramp to base camp. The first night ashore brought home the reality of what was to follow – 3 men in a 2 man tent, snoring, Army issue arctic rations and the all invasive smell of unwashed feet. The next few days of pulking, whilst we were laying caches, were a bit of a shock to the system. However, the beauty and isolation of the glaciers and the mountains more than compensated for a bit of hard work. Although we were disappointed at not summiting on the plateau, some interesting crevasse experiences and snow conditions gave much satisfaction to the journey. After a couple of weeks living on dehydrated food in rather damp, smelly tent, despite a really uniquely enjoyable experience in remote Antarctic mountains, we were all relieved to get back on Discoverer to reunite with the sweet smelling boat team.- Louise
All in all I made it a rather contrasting experience, some hardish work pulking, frustration at skiing whilst roped, fantastic views and some beautiful weather, meaning I was actually sunbathing in the Antarctic, not something I anticipated! Also not to be forgotten was the absolute silence and tranquillity when the wind and Martin, stopped blowing and the brief excitement and edge of a real (as compared to a training) crevasse rescue. Watching avalanches went from being novel to a regular sight on the (not always so) distant slopes, and early morning starts sometimes beginning the previous day were also memorable! – Chris
Sumner Glacier campsite.
|