"The Worst Journey In The World"

Antartica can safely lay claim to being the most inhospitable continent, with temperatures falling as low as -115F in Winter. But for much of the 19th century it continued to attract a number of sea faring explorers - because it housed a coveted prize in exploration: the South Pole. On January 17, 1912 the British navy captain, Robert Scott and his 4-man team reached the South Pole. However, they were not the first to get there - that distinction belonged to Roald Amundsen and his Norwegian team: they had beaten Scott to the Pole by 33 days. But, for the better part of the last 100 years, it has been Scott who has been celebrated as a hero while Amundsen has been largely forgotten outside his native Norway.  Behind this apparent contradiction is a very simple human truth: People glorify a noble failure far more than a (seemingly) facile success. You see, Scott and his team did not make it back alive: the last three members of the team perished on March 19, 1912 after being trapped in a blizzard and unable to get to their next depot of food and fuel - a mere 11 miles away.  The circumstances of their death and the stoicism with which they faced the inevitable (as inferred from the diaries they left behind) dove tailed perfectly with the British ideal of the heroic amateur explorer, who would accept any hardship and sacrifice for his comrades and his country and Scott became an instant hero around the world.

It took me a while, but I eventually got through the 600 page tome, "The Worst Journey In The World," by Aspley Cherry-Garrard.  The book describes Scott's second Antartic expedition (also called the Terra Nova Expedition after the name of his supply ship) which was from 1910 to 1913. Cherry-Garrard was the youngest member of the expedition - just 20 years old when he set out and with no real qualfications for being on the expedition. In fact, he is almost ruled out for medical reasons - he was severely short-sighted and needed thick glasses to see anything. Agreeing to go on the planned 'Winter Journey' (see later) is what gets him on the team. However, by sheer hard work and a good attitude he becomes a valued member of the team.  After years of answering questions about what happened during the trip, Cherry-Garrard gave in and wrote his masterpiece (the only book he would ever write) and it was published in 1922.  Almost 90 years later it continues to attract new readers and stir the imagination of almost everybody who reads it. Pretty remarkable for a book that devotes long sections to scientific observation about the local flora and fauna and is filled with archaic turns of phrase and lots of jargon - both nautical and geographical.

Attempting to summarize the trip here is hardly possible - I highly recommend the Wikipedia entry about the Terra Nova expedition for that - it is well written and thoroughly annotated. However, it helps know the broad outlines: At the dawn of the 20th century, both the Poles were as yet unconquered despite several fierce attempts to do so. Admiral Peary of the US would claim to the North Pole in 1909 (a claim that is largely discounted today), but the South Pole was still up for grabs when Scott and his team departed from England in mid-1910. The plan was to get to Antartica in early Summer (remember that Summer in the southern hemisphere is from Dec-March) and establish camp. They would then spend the rest of the Summer and early Fall laying depots (stores of food and fuel) along the chosen route to the Pole that they would depend on for the assault on the Pole the following (1911) Summer. They would wait out the intervening winter months (June-Aug of 1911) at their base camp (in a place called 'Cape Evans').  Antartica is barely hospitable in Summer, it has near impossible conditions in Winter - super low temperatures, howling blizzards, and of course no sunlight - and nobody had ever contemplated any kind of travel during those months. Until this expedition.

Camping in a Blizzard (sketch by Wilson)

On 27th June, 1911 - in the dead of the Antartica winter - 3 men headed out  to Cape Crozier, which was 60 miles from Cape Evans, on the eastern edge of Ross Island. The three men were Dr. Wilson (the leader), Bowers, and our author, Aspley Cherry-Garrard. The goal was to visit a rookery of the Emperor Penguin in order to collect some eggs which are laid in the middle of Winter.  Wilson (a zoologist) had a theory that examining the egg of an Emperor penguin (considered a primitive bird) would yeild clues about some missing evolutionary links. This was a most horrific journey - they really didn't know what to expect and things turned out far worse than anybody imagined. It was often pitch dark (they held up a candle to see each other and their way) and bitterly cold - temperatures were almost always around the -60s and one day dropped all the way to -79F. It was so cold that their clothes would freeze into boards within seconds of coming out of their tent and in the night they lay shaking in their sleeping bags, as Cherry-Garrard writes, "..until our backs would almost break." During the day their perspiration and breath would instantly freeze into ice and during the night their sleeping bag would be soaking wet as all this ice melted. They were "man-hauling", which means that they were pulling a sled with their supplies. And in their case, it was actually 2 sleds carrying almost 800 lbs of stuff. The surface condidtions were often very rough - sometimes almost sand-like because of the extremely low humidity.  Many days they covered a little over a mile after 10 hours of pulling and it took them 19 days to cover the 60 miles. Things only get worse after they reach Cape Crozier, but somehow they survive and actually return with 3 penguin eggs.
This trip is in fact the "worst journey" of the title of the book (and not the subsequent Polar Journey during which Scott and his team perish).  You know that the three men survived this trip, but you can scarcely believe it as you read page after page of the terrible conditions and deteriorating health of the travelers in Cherry-Garrard's matter-of-fact prose.  In fact, they come close to death many times but somehow pull through. Rather than discounting from the impact, the almost lack of poetry or overwrought text gives the telling a weight that is hard to shake off. The sheer accretion of detail - there is a detailed accounting of almost every single day of the 6-week journey - gives you sense of being immersed in the journey yourself and it is easy to envision yourself in the middle of a vast icy expanse - damp, cold, and miserable in the dark. Although you are well aware of it by now, you can't help but be moved when Cherry-Garrard says, almost in passing, that his two companions, Bowers and Wilson, survived the "worst journey in the world" only to die a few months later during the ostensibly well-planned Polar Journey.

Map of the Polar Journey

Cherry-Garrard gives much the same thorough treatment to the rest of the expedition and of course the starring role is occupied by the actual assault on the Pole and the subsequent discovery of the remains of the 5-man Pole party. The difficulty of going to the Pole and back is hard to exaggerate - they had to cover 1712 miles, almost entirely on foot and often pulling a sled laden with their gear and food.  They set out on November 1, 1911 and for most of the next 5 months they walked and man-hauled for 10-15 miles, every single day (except when trapped by blizzards).

Much ink has been expended on debating how the Pole party could have survived, but three points are particularly poignant. The first: Scott's decision to lay the final depot almost 30 miles north of where he originally planned to (in other words, they would have reached this depot almost 20 miles before the point at which they died) and second, his decision increase the size of the Pole party to 5 when all calculations about food and fuel had been made with a 4-man team in mind. The third one is something that would haunt the author, Cherry-Garrard to his dying day:  In early March 1911, he was given the charge to re-supply the 'One Ton Depot' and possibly help the returning Pole party who were expected to be at that depot by then.  However, he does not find them there and he has to decide between going further south (till his food ran out) or waiting at the depot. Since he has no navigation experience and indeed no real way to ensure that he would cross paths with them, he stays put at the depot and eventually returns to base camp. What he didn't know was that Scott, Wilson, and Bowers - the last surviving members of the 5-man Pole party - were just 70 miles south of the depot, slowly dying from fatigue, illness, and most crucially, a lack of food and fuel.  This knowledge, gained from their diaries 8 months later would be Cherry-Garrard's lasting regret - the dilemna of the path not taken - could he have rescued them if he had headed further South?

Bravery in the face of adversity is commendable, but is also in part the survival instinct. Willingly taking on a near impossible task with mortal danger almost inevitable, merely because one believes that it must be done - this is what heroes are made of.  What would drive these otherwise ordinary men to take on such extraordinary risks? This is what fascinates the rest of us - we, who go through our quotidian tasks treading over the same landscape that multitudes before us have and will continue to do so.  Perhaps this fascination explains why so many non-climbers aspire to reach the top of Mt Everest.  Indeed, there is an outfit that will allow you to re-live the Polar expedition, after a fashion: For $65,000 they will fly you to Antartica and you get to ski about 700 miles pulling a sled behind you. It will take you 3 months to get to the Pole, but unlike the Polar explorers of a century ago you don't have to ski back to the starting point - they fly you back.

Many, many, books have been written about the various Polar expeditions, but this is the one that most people think of. Why is this? Cherry-Garrard is not unskilled as a writer, but he is no Hemingway.  But what he lacks in skill, he more than makes up with the conviction of one who was there, of one who experienced and saw everything first-hand. This invests his text with an authenticity that no amount of careful wording or dramatic prose can evoke. It is a tough slog, but well worth the price of admission.

(Acknowledgment: The pictures on this blog are copied from the Gutenberg project from where you can download the book for free (link).)

The Peru Diary Part 5 (Dec 26-28)

Only two more days remained in our Peru trip and our last leg was a flight from Cusco to Peru on the 26th.  The flight was only around noon, but we didn't sleep in: Since we had missed the Cusco city tour due to my illness, Malini and I had arranged for a guide and driver (the same duo that took us around the Sacred Valley) to take us on a quick tour of the main sites in Cusco. Vinay and Sangeetha volunteered to watch the boys (who were only too happy to give another set of archaelogical sites a miss) and so we set out on our own around 7.30am.

Saqsaywaman

It was a pleasant morning for site seeing - it had rained during the night and the air was fresh and clean. Given the early hour, the sites were mostly devoid of other tourists. We started with the Inca site of Saqsaywaman - a large and historically important site that has a unique structure - 3 layers of zigzagged walls made of huge stones, some of them weighing hundreds of tons. The Incas believed in life being divided into three layers: the nether world (or the past) represented by the Snake, the earth (or the present) represented by the Puma, and the heavens (or the future) being represented by the Condor. The three layers of the Saqsaywaman complex are considered to represent those three facets.  Once we climbed to the top most layer, we were rewarded by some very nice views of Cusco, including all the main churches. We then hopped next door to the Q'enqo complex, which had an subterranean altar for ceremonies and (animal) sacrifices. We then drove to Tambomachay, which has the so-called "festival fountains." These are essentially artifical water falls that were created for the Inca royalty. The water continues to flow today through the ancient system of canals and channels and our guide held it up as an example of the advanced engineering skills of the Incas. Given that nobody else was around, our guide encouraged us to actually step upto the fountains and enjoy the water. It was cold and refreshing.  Our final stop that morning was at Puca Puccara, which served as a sort of watchtower and fortress along an important trade route. After this it was a quick dash back to our hotel, just in time to load up the van and head to the airport.

The flight to Lima was uneventful and as we stepped out of the airport, we were greeted by a blast of muggy air - we were at sea level again and right on the coast, to boot. For some reason, a number of us were fixated on McDonalds for lunch and we managed to find one just before reaching our hotel. We were booked in a place called 'Peru Star Apartments' and it had been a bit of an unknown.  Upon arrival, we were pleasantly surprised by the quality and spaciousness of our accommodations. We had a 2-room suite to ourselves and the Murthys and RD were sharing a 2-story townhouse. They were all part of a rather large building located in the embassy district of Lima. This meant that we had a heavy security presence all around and the streets were wide and clean.
A bit later we headed out on a short walk to a nearby grocery store. Lima is a modern city and at least that part of town was very remniscent of "old" Bangalore - the feeling was the same.  Unlike every other city we had been in, there was very little about Lima that reminded you of Peru, or at least our idea of Peru. The rest of the evening was spent just chatting and we ate dinner in the little outdoor restaurant that was part of our lodgings.

Front of Presidential Palace

The next morning - our last, full day in Peru - we headed out on a short city tour. Sangeetha wanted to chill and Bhavna and Pallavi stayed with her. We drove to the main part of the city and stopped outside the Presidential palace for the usual photo-ops. The main destination were the catacombs of the St Francis church, which were close by. These catacombs (absolutely no photography allowed anywhere inside) were the main burial ground for all people in Lima for many years and it is quite remarkable to walk through the narrow tunnels and rooms that are part of the foundation of the huge church. After we got out, we walked around a bit, unsure as to where to head next. RD tried to bargain for some shoes, but eventually gave up. After some back and forth, we decided on a museum that was along the route back to our hotel. However, when we got there it was closed and we decided to cut our losses and head back. Lunch was once again in our local cafe and the kids jumped into the pool for a bit.

Peru Star Apartments

In the evening, we all headed out for some shopping and for the much anticipated visit to an Indian restaurant. After the series of dining disasters (& the generally bland food), all of us had been day dreaming of Indian food, torturing ourselves with descriptions of the feasts we were going to partake of, back in San Diego. We headed to the upscale district of Mira Flores and it was a happening place. We stopped for some shopping and spent quite some time negotiating and eventually buying several wool (alpaca) items. Then it was time for dinner. We had no clue what to expect (this was just a place RD had found on the web), but we were in luck this time - it was a somewhat upscale place and it turned out to be the perfect setting for a farewell meal. We ordered lots of food and managed to finish almost everything. We all over ate - the food tasted so good! It was a happy memory on which to close out our last night in Peru.
The next morning we headed back to the airport for our flight to LA.  There was some confusion in the airport, but eventually it was all sorted out and we made our flight safely. After landing in LAX, we couldn't resist heading to Cerritos for another dose of Indian food - once again, we lucked out: We were looking for "Mumbai Ki Galiyon Se" and found it just before closing time. After some hesitation, they agreed to serve us and once again, we stuffed ourselves.

How will we recall this trip? There were certainly times when I was questioning our decision (or at least our particular itinerary), but at some point (as is the wont), we settled into a rhythm and began to appreciate and enjoy the sights and sounds of Peru.  It is a country with a distinct character of its own - historically, culturally, and scenically.  The people we met were uniformly friendly and pleasant.  A place well worth visiting.