Edmund Hillary--A Biography

by Michael Gill

  – CHAPTER 20 –

  ‘Hellbent for the Pole’

  It was not a race, but as the two expeditions came closer to the Pole, the press enjoyed itself and boosted newspaper sales by portraying it as such. Fuchs’s goal was to succeed where Shackleton had failed, to cross the continent by way of the South Pole and thereby bring prestige to his country and consolidation of its claim to the Falklands Dependencies sector of the Antarctic. It would also bring renown to the expedition leader, though he would have disclaimed any interest in this. Additionally, the UK party would carry out a scientific programme including measurements of the ice thickness along the line of their traverse which might show that in parts the underlying rock was below sea level. Antarctica might be an archipelago of islands rather than a single continent.

  Ed’s letters and diary give no indication that he felt he was in a race, but there is no doubt that he wanted to reach the Pole. Where do you go after you’ve been first up Everest? In a trip to the Pole he could see a challenge. Whether you admired or deplored this attitude depended on where you came from. The New Zealand response was usually ‘Good on you, Ed.’ The English, however, regarded the Pole as theirs.

  Fuchs and Hillary resembled each other in their ambition, strength and determination, but there were also some large differences. Ed’s basic tasks were setting up Scott Base, supporting his scientists and explorers, and establishing fuel depots for the British party. Beyond that he was driven by two goals: the first was to reach the Pole; the second to be back at Scott Base in time to catch transport back to Louise, Peter and Sarah in New Zealand. He did not want to endure another Antarctic winter.

  There were external constraints. He had signed an agreement that he was subject to the direction of the Ross Sea Committee (RSC), the London Committee of Management under Sir John Slessor, and the Trans-Antarctic Expedition (TAE) leader Vivian Fuchs – a division of management which would have its repercussions in the field. Ed before Everest would have happily accepted this junior status, but by 1957 he had become a world celebrity. It was this fame and New Zealand’s financial and logistical support that Fuchs sought when he encouraged Ed to be his support leader on the Ross Sea side of the continent. Fuchs wanted Ed’s energy and charisma but failed to recognise that these were indissolubly linked to Ed’s competitiveness and need for recognition. Fuchs was not famous, or not yet, but he had behind him the formidable resources and self-assurance of what had until recently been the world’s greatest empire.

  Then there was the question of styles of leadership. Ed could be authoritarian at times but he could also be very flexible. He would listen to other people and adopt their ideas if they were better than his own, though not always with an acknowledgement. Fuchs was more certain that he was right. With his three years of field experience as leader of the British presence on the Antarctic Peninsula, he could see no reason why he should consult with anyone. This would be acceptable if he was always right, but he was not. Fuchs had extensive experience with dogs in the Antarctic but none with vehicles such as the Sno-Cats he would lead through heavily crevassed country to the Pole. Stephen Haddelsey, in his account of the TAE, quotes criticism of Fuchs by glaciologist Hal Lister who had driven snow vehicles in Greenland. Lister quoted TAE deputy leader David Stratton: ‘You are not here to think, Bunny and I do that for you; you are here to do as you’re told.’1 One needs to qualify such diary entries with the reservation that irritations and animosities easily incubate in the isolated conditions of polar exploration. Scott v Shackleton was a famous example on the expeditions of 1902 and 1908, and the same tensions were in play for Ed at Scott Base, where many were critical of his ambition to take tractors to the Pole.

  On the plus side for Fuchs were his unshakeable self-confidence, and his physical strength, stamina, courage and determination. George Lowe described how during the voyage of the Theron a young Norwegian called Alf, the crew’s champion arm-wrestler, put out a challenge which was accepted by the 48-year-old Fuchs:

  They sat down together, gripped hands and set about it, the crew watching all agog, though feeling that Bunny did not have much hope of success … They pressed and strained, and as the seconds ticked by the audience fell silent. The veins on Bunny’s handsome head were beginning to swell, his face reddened, his eyes shut tightly as he fought. Almost a minute passed, and then the Norwegian began to falter. Before long there were murmurs of applause – for Vivian Fuchs had beaten the champion.

  The game was trivial enough … Far more interesting was Bunny’s demeanour during the next few hours. He was oddly elated, jubilant, less severe than usual, and his eyes seemed to glint with the expression of a man who is compulsively determined, almost dedicated, to demonstrate an absolute, unshaking and unshakeable confidence in himself …

  Bunny, the oldest among us, would throw himself with silent passion into every form of silent activity, every game and exercise, until he could beat every one of us into the ground … Even at the most strenuous games the powerful, greying leader of our expedition could match himself against three or four people, one after the other, and when he could vanquish all of them several times running, would cast about him for a new opponent … he was incredibly strong, single-minded, full of endurance and determination…2

  A question of timing

  A determining factor for Ed’s ambitions would be whether Fuchs could reach the Pole around Christmas Day as planned. By this date the New Zealand group would only just have finished their task of stocking fuel depots, leaving them no time to reach the Pole. For Ed the best outcome would be for Fuchs to reach the Pole a few days ahead of the New Zealand group. Fuchs would have his priority and Ed his Pole. The more difficult scenario would have Fuchs a long way behind schedule, with Ed, embarrassingly, reaching the Pole weeks ahead of the official party.

  From the start the Fuchs party had a delay of a month built into its plans. The New Zealand group was setting off from Scott Base on 14 October, whereas the main British party planned to leave Shackleton on 14 November. The reason for the delay was that Fuchs had decided to precede his main departure with a preliminary reconnaissance of the 350 miles of ice shelf and crevassed glaciers separating Shackleton from the Polar Plateau. This would be carried out in a Sno-Cat and three Weasels driven by Fuchs and three others. They would end their reconnaissance on the Polar Plateau at the hut known as South Ice which had been flown in the previous summer. From there they would fly back to Shackleton for the departure of the main crossing party heading for the Pole and Scott Base.

  On the Ross Sea side, the equivalent of South Ice was Plateau Depot, 280 miles from Scott Base, but a longer distance, 970 miles, from the Pole. Between D280 and the Pole, the Kiwis were scheduled to stock two additional depots, D480 and D700, with the latter at roughly the same distance from the Pole as was South Ice.

  The early timetable, made when optimism reigned, had Fuchs being first to the Pole, but there were large areas of uncertainty. His route to South Ice had not been traversed on the ground. Ed’s group had taken dogs up the Skelton but not tractors – which might be hopelessly unsuitable for polar travel anyway.

  When the New Zealand party set off on 14 October, they were in three tractors and a Weasel, dragging sledges heavily laden with drums of fuel. Their progress was so slow that by the time they camped they had covered only six miles and, ignominiously, were still in sight of Scott Base. The sceptics might after all be right that tractors couldn’t even cross the Ross Ice Shelf let alone climb to the Plateau and the Pole. There was no option but to lighten the loads by dropping off drums of fuel.

  After a week, with 180 miles behind them, Ed allowed himself the indulgence of some purple prose:

  I was pointing my tractor towards the distant mouth of the Skelton Glacier and as I bumped along I looked out on a strangely beautiful scene. To the south of us the sun was a molten ball of fire on the horizon and its low rays brought into sharp relief the jagged sastrugi and transformed the hills and hollows into a mot
tled patchwork of flame and shadow. The white sky glowed with a delicate purple while the great peaks standing all around us were dressed in crimson robes. We were swimming along in a sea of glorious colour and for a while I forgot even the cold and the discomfort.3

  When they drove into Skelton Depot at the foot of the glacier, they were met by Bob Miller and George Marsh and 18 excited dogs who had been flown in to save sledging across the ice shelf. Skelton had become a mini airport, with a dump of aviation fuel to be used when the two planes, the little Auster and the larger Beaver, were relaying freight into the next three depots, Plateau (D280), D480 and D700. It was the use of the planes, and the skills of their pilots, John Claydon and Bill Cranfield, which provided the flexibility to transport people, dogs and freight between Scott Base and the depots at will.

  The ascent of the 100 miles of Skelton Glacier took 10 days. Wind as well as drift and ice poured down between the mountains on either side, but the dog teams had already found a route the previous autumn, and Miller and Marsh and their dogs were back in the lead again, marking the best route for the tractors. Ed described their arrival at the Plateau camp on the last day of October:

  I was in the Weasel at the back of the train and I saw Jim suddenly change direction a few degrees … I looked ahead, and there on the horizon several miles away was a tiny black triangle – a tent. It was the Plateau Depot.

  My first feeling was one of enormous relief. With the bad visibility we had been experiencing I didn’t know how accurate my navigation would be … To see our four battered vehicles and the laden sledges at the Plateau Depot seemed to be the fulfilment of an impossible dream. I don’t think that ever before, even on the summit of Everest, had I felt a greater sense of achievement.4

  He might have added a word of praise for Bates and Ellis who had adapted and maintained the three tractors that were the beasts of burden on which he might ride to the Pole.

  They spent 12 days at Plateau Depot, waiting restlessly for planes to fly in during breaks in the weather with the drums of fuel for the Fuchs party. Harry Ayres and Roy Carlyon set off with two dog teams to explore and survey mountain country at the head of the Darwin Glacier. One of the teams was almost lost down a deep crevasse when a dog broke through the crust and was followed by the rest of its team and the sledge. Fortunately, the sledge got jammed 10 feet down, leaving the dogs hanging free in their traces in the space below. Harry climbed down, and he and Roy extricated them. One dog slipped out of its harness and fell to its death, the only casualty on the whole TAE.

  From Plateau Depot three of the Hillary party flew temporarily back to Scott Base: Murray Ellis because an old rugby injury to his back had flared up; Peter Mulgrew with painful ribs after falling off the roof of the caboose and on to its towbar; and Ed to do leadership tasks, phone Louise and write letters.

  My dearest darlingest Lulu, My telephone call with you tonight has been quite a tonic for me. You really gave me the works and it’s done me a lot of good and made me feel closer to you than I have for a long time. I really need a good roust up from you now and then when I get too morbid … Actually the job of leader is a pretty lonely one I find … I’m afraid this plan to use tractors has rather become a besetting sin with me and I probably drove everyone to distraction with it all winter as I was determined to carry it through despite a good deal of lack of confidence here at base …

  It’s blowing a howling blizzard here tonight and up on the plateau but perhaps this will clear away the unsettled weather. I don’t doubt in the least that we’ll establish D480 and D700 but I would still like to push through to the Pole. I’ve come to the conclusion I’m ambitious or competitive or something but anyway I’d dearly love to get to the Pole, but fear that time is against me. Thanks for your pick-me-up darling. It makes me realise how much I need you …5

  As a husband and father Ed was not always aware of the strains on a beleaguered solo mother raising two anarchic infants:

  By the way darling I was a bit aghast at the way you were yelling at Peter when we were on the phone the other night. I’m sure you don’t realise how it sounded … I think you’d be far better off to give him a damn good swipe rather than shout at him like that – probably do him and you far less harm … it’s easy to criticize from down here I suppose …6

  The weather prevented flying for a week, but in a clearance on 10 November Ed flew south from Scott Base to Plateau Depot, D280. Two days later they set off on the 200-mile journey to D480, which they reached a fortnight later. Ed could be dismissive of the dangers of travelling on the Plateau – ‘the dangers of this sort of trip to my mind don’t compare with a Himalayan expedition,’7 he wrote to Louise – but the ever-present risk of a tractor breaking through a snow bridge into an apparently bottomless crevasse could be wearing.

  A confusion of messages

  When chairman of the RSC, Charles Bowden, was more clearly informed of Ed’s polar ambitions, he expressed alarm at the risk involved, and pointed out that it would require approval of both Fuchs and the London committee. Ed replied briskly that risk could be assessed only by those in the field. ‘We do not wish to deny you the functions of leadership …’ was the reply,8 and there the matter rested. Did Bowden ever sound out Sir John Slessor in London? There is no mention of it in the record.

  On 21 November Ed’s diary records the receipt of two significant messages. The first was from Fuchs describing a delay in the departure of his main expedition.

  … start delayed 10 days … Leaving Shackleton 24th [November] … Could be up to fortnight late arriving Scott Base … possibility remains we do not arrive till 9th March … If conditions difficult we can accept intended D700 at 600 miles … Time so gained may be useful to you for your work in the mountains. As it seems unlikely we can meet at D700 would appreciate guide from Plateau Depot if possible. Delighted you have vehicles on plateau and going so well. Congratulations from all. Bunny

  Ed was alarmed to hear that the main party had not even started and that the crossing might not be completed until 9 March – a month later than an earlier estimate of 8 February. Predicting arrival times was an inexact science, but by 9 March – which could end up being later still – they might miss the last transport back to New Zealand. There was also the puzzling ‘If conditions difficult we can accept intended D700 at 600 miles.’ Compared with Fuchs, the New Zealand group was positively racing along. How could it fail to reach D700? Or was this code for the message, ‘Keep away from the Pole …’?

  The second message was from the RSC as a phone call from Arthur Helm to Scott Base. It was relayed to Ed via John Claydon and showed a startling change in attitude towards a Pole trip:

  Helm rang saying following committee meeting Monday it appears greatly increased interest in expedition and stocks particularly high. Committee interested in your prospects reaching Pole and whether you have considered this. If you are prepared to go for Pole, Committee will give you every encouragement and full support following formal approval from London. If you intend to proceed Helm requests you seek Committee approval for the venture following which they will get OK from London. Could you wire Helm re this on same day as you send ‘Times’ dispatch from D480. Good work. Claydon9

  There was need for some approvals here, but there was no doubt that the overall tone was one of encouragement. Ed replied:

  On establishment of D700 the tractors carrying sufficient fuel to reach Pole will continue south to meet Fuchs. Unless Fuchs requires the assistance of the vehicles which is unlikely, we will continue on after meeting him and leave our vehicles at the Pole where they can be of some use. Admiral has agreed to evacuate us by air to Scott Base. I will join Fuchs at the Plateau Depot and guide him down the Skelton and across the Ross Ice Shelf. Hillary10

  It was not difficult to find good reasons for continuing to the Pole rather than waiting for Fuchs to reach D700 which, as events turned out, would be in eight weeks’ time. By going to the Pole rather than waiting, Ed would be prospecting the r
oute for the Fuchs party and speed their onward progress. For his own party it would be easier to drive the 550 miles from D700 to the Pole than to drive the tractors the 700 miles back to Scott Base. He would ask John Claydon to fly extra drums of fuel into D700 for the Pole trip, and he would approach the Americans to fly the party from the Pole back to Scott Base. To this the ever-obliging Admiral replied, ‘Yes, of course, with pleasure. Best regards. Dufek.’

  The tractor team reached D480 on 25 November, followed three days later by the Miller–Marsh dog team who pointed out that Ed’s navigation was a bit approximate, the tents being six miles away from the position he had given them. There was competition between Ed with his tractors and the dog-drivers who saw the Pole trip as a ‘stunt’ compared with the exploration and mapping they planned. If they wanted someone to go to the Pole, why not a dog team – though to supply it with food for dogs and drivers might not be easy.

  The group spent 11 days at D480 waiting for the weather-dictated arrival of the Beaver with its drums of fuel. Ed wrote to Louise: