Antarctica Ahoy!

Around Scott Base

Expedition Begins

Exploration Area

Exploration Routes

Plateau Loop map

Polar Plateau

Icy Panorama

East Quartzite Range

West Quartzite Range

Upper Glacier

Glacier Route

Middle Glacier

Lower Glacier

Final Stretch

Destination

Conclusion

Diary: Introduction

Diary: Preparation

Diary: Polar Plateau

Diary: Quartzite Xmas

Diary: Into the Glacier

Diary: Home Run

Appendix: Polar Life

Appendix: Logistics

Appendix: Mapping

Thanks

Tararua Antarctic Expedition, 1962-63

Diary: Quartzite Xmas

Thu 13th Dec. Camp III. Survey station H2.

Rising at 7:15 a.m., we left before 9 with the usual 35-pound [16-kg] survey packs. A snow slope plod and a scramble up a scree ridge took us by 10 a.m. to the summit of H2, a climb of perhaps 1000 feet [300 m].

As usual, the first task was to take a round of photographs with the theodolite-mounted camera, in case part of the panorama should be lost to cloud. So splendid was the vista, it took until 7 p.m. to survey to the multitude of landmarks visible, observing for each the horizontal and vertical angles. Meanwhile, Gerald carefully sketched topographic details with the aid of binoculars and aerial photos, and plotted the route that we would follow later towards the Quartzite Ranges.

The geologists visited scattered nunataks in the vicinity, finally scrambling up to H2. Everyone joined in building a four-foot [1.2-m] cairn, before we departed at 7:45 p.m., to reach camp about half an hour later. Theodolite observation of the sun for azimuth and longitude continued until 9:30. After Gerald's wonderful tea, we were in the sack by 11:30.

Fri 14th Dec. Camp III – Camp IV.

A second balancing sun shot for azimuth and longitude – together with a round of angles to tie to the triangulation network – took from 4:25 a.m. until 6:30. Frank must have been losing concentration, because the theodolite did not check back to 0° or 180° after the observations, which necessitated measuring some angles three times. His eyes were sore from observing the sun through the theodolite, despite the solar filter.

Back in bed, a huge, luxurious breakfast at 9 a.m. marked the end of the first twenty-day ration box. Gerald and Frank were both pretty tired, because simply opening and sorting the new ration box took all morning. After lunch and a mid-day solar latitude shot, we broke camp and sledged away at 2:15.

The first quarter-hour of man-hauling brought another exhilarating loss of altitude of perhaps 200 feet [60 m], to arrive above the head of the Lloyd Icefall, which feeds the Rennick Glacier névé. The icefall is named for Roger Lloyd of John Millen's party. A slight down-grade or level going continued easily enough until 4 p.m.

Then, for three horrid hours, came an grueling uphill trudge for fifty minutes in each hour. Under the blazing sun, anoraks over tee shirts were sufficient top wear for such effort.

We broke at 7 p.m. for a radio schedule with John Millen, and continued at 7:30, but now chilled and stiff. A final hour of wretched hauling brought us to a saddle beside Camp Ridge. Dazed from the effort we stumbled about pitching camp and making tea, and still dazed we fell asleep about 11 p.m.

Sat 15th Dec. Camp IV whiteout.

Hallelujah! At alarm time a whiteout enveloped the area, which meant rest. Someone in the 1957-58 NZ Tucker Glacier party had warned us that Antarctic exploration involves struggle to the brink of exhaustion, interspersed with spells of bad weather for rest and recovery. Fair weather is too precious to squander resting. Upon waking again about 11 a.m. for brunch, we began to feel refreshed.

Throughout the snowy afternoon, Gerald studied and wrote, while Frank reduced survey observations. Seated on a trembling air mattress in a dim and cluttered tent makes a fairly serviceable office. Each step of the long-winded astronomical survey calculation involves manipulation of observational or star chart data, by looking up seven-figure logarithms of those values in a book of tables, and adding the logarithms by hand. Thus we occupied ourselves until sleep came at 11:15 p.m.

Sun 16th Dec. Camp IV whiteout.

Light snow fell during the day, with low cloud or whiteout most of the time. Reducing survey solar readings for latitude and longitude at Camp III, and for azimuth, took Frank all day. In the evening, Evan and John visited for tea, as it was Evan’s 21st birthday. We celebrated rowdily until midnight.

Mon 17th Dec. Camp IV whiteout.

Whiteout and light snowfall continued for most of the day, which passed pleasantly. In enforced inactivity, bodily energy steadily seeps back. Sleep came at 9 p.m.

Tue 18th Dec. Camp IV. Survey station FF2 (Mt. Hayton).

A whiteout at 6 a.m. sent us back to sleep again. However, Gerald was becoming anxious about the loss of time. We had a long way to go and much work to do, with only so much food and time before the airlift out.

Gerald's sheer determination must have helped dissipate the cloud, because shortly afterwards some peaks began to appear. So we started the usual breakfast of powdered egg-'n-oatmeal dumplings fried in bacon fat.

By 10:45 a.m. we had crossed a narrow snowfield to Camp Ridge, and reached the summit of Mt. Hayton (FF2) by 1 p.m. This striking monolith has warmed-hued rock, firm and delightful to climb.

[Subsequent calculations revealed that Mt. Hayton is a gigantic geographical monument, located at latitude 72°S and longitude 165°E, within measurement error.]

The usual round of terrestrial photogrammetry photos preceded hours of documenting the terrain by sketch pad and theodolite. Throughout the day, cumulus and cumulo-nimbus clouds hovered about, seemingly kept at bay by a strengthening bitter southerly.

Evan and John appeared at 3:45 p.m., having geologised their way to the summit. Evan continued with geology, while John collected rocks for the summit cairn, atop what was to be his namesake mountain. Gerald and Evan left at 5:30 to meet the radio schedule at 7 p.m.

When survey observations were complete, and the theodolite was removed, John placed among the summit rocks a note about our party, together with a page from "Life" magazine, and a copy of "Whitaker's Almanac", before we built a cairn over John's mementoes.

From the summit, John and Frank followed Camp Ridge to a col 15 minutes to the northeast. Thence we traversed a snow slope on the north side of the ridge to reach the campsite at 7 p.m. Gerald had prepared a stew, so that all Frank had to do was crawl into the tent and eat it, a luxurious treat after a great day.

Wed 19th Dec. Camp IV – Camp V.

Gerald and Frank were up at 6 a.m. and had breakfasted and packed the sledge by 8:15. We filled in time until 9:30, when Evan and John appeared bleary-eyed, after having regaled one another noisily deep into the "night".

For the first hour we continued sledging northwest – parallel to the East Quartzite Range – passing Mt. Hayton, pink and splendid above its surrounding snowfield. Turning southwest, we crossed the East Quartzite Range on a snowfield between two more nunataks, pink granite towers standing in snow against an azure sky.

We emerged from the East Quartzite Range into a névé several miles wide, a dazzling boulevard separating the East and West Quartzite Ranges. Over lunch at 12:30, John casually mentioned that he had "put his foot down a slot [crevasse]" during the morning.

From that vantage, Frank decided to set up a survey station as a control for the photo-pan, and to strengthen the triangulation. However, he had difficulty reconciling "face right" and "face left" theodolite readings, which delayed completion of the work until 3:30. Naturally, the delay caused some impatience among his companions.

Resuming northwest across the névé, we passed Gothic Peak (QQ2) in the West Quartzite Range. Atop Gothic is a remarkable triangular spire, perhaps overhanging, standing over a steep rampart of quartzite, shaped like a cathedral roof. A steady slog reached the campsite at 6:30 p.m., to quench raging thirsts with water, fruit crystals, soup and coffee.

Thu 20th Dec. Camp V. Survey station RR2 (Cornerstone Peak).

We awoke at 7:30 a.m. and left by 9:30 for Cornerstone Peak (RR2), the northern limit of our travel. Cornerstone lies on the Leitch Massif, a large quartzite nunatak named for Evan. Also, Cornerstone was the survey station that we occupied closest to the summer solstice. [There, the mid-day sun was at its highest, 41½° high to the north, and 5½° high southwards at midnight.]

An hour’s snow plug northwest across the névé steadily became steeper, until we strapped on crampons to cross a narrow bergschrund to the mountain rock. Having gained the summit ridge, we cached the climbing rope and crampons, and continued over pink rock to the summit at 12:15 p.m.

Evan was ecstatic, finding “aeolean erosion in the silicose conglomerate with clear evidence of water deposition before metamorphosis, and water-worn quartz pebbles!” (Silicose conglomerate is a very hard, pink metamorphic rock.) A black lichen with leaves about 1/8-inch [3-mm] long also grew there.

Unfortunately for surveying, cloud began to envelop the summit soon after we arrived. Points J3B and I3B were observed just before they became obliterated. Gradually, other landmarks were blocked out in every direction. Sightings to some important landmarks were missed.

At 5 p.m. we 'tossed in the chips' and began the two-thousand-foot [600-m] descent, arriving at camp at 6:30 p.m. A pemmican stew and a 'ton of brews' rejuvenated us. By then, stratus cloud completely covered the sky.

After tea, as a way to unwind before bedtime, Frank sewed up a worn mukluk, and tinkered futilely with the survey camera, which was tearing sprocket holes on the film. Slowly the sky cleared to a six-eighths coverage of alto-cumulus clouds by about 9 p.m.

Fri 21st Dec. Camp V – Camp VI.

At 6 a.m. thickening stratus obscured the sun. We struck camp and packed to leave by 10:15, in light snow. From this point, the route would climb to recover the altitude that had been lost from the dêpot on the polar plateau, where the incoming flight had landed. [Subsequently, Camp V was estimated to be roughly 2900 feet (880 m) lower than the dêpot. The elevation of the dêpot is some 8000 feet. Camp V was approximately 2000 feet below 7140-foot Cornerstone, i.e., about 5140 feet, which would be about 2860 feet lower than the dêpot.]

A gentle ascent took us to a pass south of Cornerstone Peak after 1½ hours. Then earnest upgrade hauling began, towards a pass west of Gothic Peak.

A cool breeze discouraged tarrying. Beneath the overcast, nunataks a few miles southwards across the polar plateau looked like tiny black clouds floating in white, horizon-less space.

At one point Gerald noticed that Evan and John to the rear seemed to be turning to the wrong side of a nunatak. Yelling and waving of ski sticks at them produced a nonchalant change of course.

Man-hauling became arduous. Besides the daunting grade of perhaps 8%, the sastrugi crust frequently broke through under foot to soft snow. All too often, we would step up to the sastrugi surface – rather like climbing a giant stair – only to have the sastrugi break through once more. Sometimes the sledge runners broke through too, making an even greater drag. Gerald suggested walking like a cat on the sastrugi to lessen breaking through. That certainly helped, though Gerald was better at it than Frank.

A hypnotic rhythm focussed energy on leg movements as powerful as we could summon, in order to just keep the sledge moving. Ski sticks swung like metronomes, to try to keep rhythm despite the erratic footing. Chests thumped with the effort, and heads stayed bowed, to hide from sight how slowly we were approaching a black speck of rock ahead that marked the pass.

If one is obliged to haul uphill, this was a good day for it. A sheer softness of gently falling snow all around mutes the senses. Oddly enough, it is preferable not to have the sun, which bakes and desiccate the body. Under bright sun, wearing an anorak for wind protection, vigorous man-hauling soaks the clothing with sweat, which quickly cools and chills the body at the next stop.

Even a stiff southerly headwind that developed about 2:30 p.m. impeded us minimally, clad in the excellent windproof clothing. Gerald trudged on invincibly, though Frank's diary confides: "Mind you, I did get buggared by fifty minutes of hauling in each hour."

At last at 3:45 we reached the pass west of Gothic Peak. Evan and John had not arrived by four o’clock, so Gerald and Frank trotted back, finding them repairing a loosened sledge lashing. The four of us hitched onto Evan and John's sledge, and made lighter work of the climb.

From the pass we continued more easily on a gentler upgrade, intending to march for another hour. However, after fifteen minutes we encountered by chance a suitable site for a survey baseline near the foot of Gothic Peak, so we camped there.

During the evening the sky cleared slightly to seven-eighths cloud, but the southerly strengthened, lashing the tent. At the 8:30 p.m. radio schedule, Evan learned that he had won a Senior Scholarship. At 2105 hours the chronometer was 26.3 seconds slow. Gerald invented a delicious fruit drink by diluting juice from dried apricots.

Sat 22nd Dec. Camp VI.

Not a bad day really, it might seem. Just enough cloud in the sky to make the temperature tolerable for sledge hauling, and fairly sunny and pleasant.

Except for the wind. Blasts of wind buffeted the tent furiously, then subsided to gather strength for the next time. Anyone unlucky enough to get caught out in such a squall became smothered with blown snow, right up the trouser legs. The briefest sojourn out of the tent required full blizzard dress. While we slept, drifting snow piled around the tents, up to two feet [600 mm] deep.

The diary complains "It is all a damned nuisance because we are a bit behind of schedule, and the day would be ideal for putting in a baseline but for the wind." We dozed all day, partly from fatigue, and partly because the tent was so dark, with the tent sleeves tied to keep out the wind. A candle was needed even to prepare and eat meals.

Later in the day, the wind subsided and the cloud thickened, until towards evening snow began to fall again. We blew out the candle to sleep at 9:30, but the Brulidane used to treat sunburn stung Frank’s face.

Sun 23rd Dec. Camp VI - Camp VII.

A 4 a.m. awakening for a planned solar longitude shot showed the sky overcast, so we slept until 7:30. After breakfast, Evan and Gerald left to geologise on the pass west of Gothic Peak, while John and Frank stayed back at camp to sort the next ration box, and strike the tents. A contemplated baseline was abandoned due to lack of visibility.

Having lunched, we hitched to the sledges, and marched southeast in light snow under thickening cloud. For the first hour-and-a half the upgrade continued gently – perhaps 2% – which was tolerable, except when the sastrugi collapsed underfoot. Heavy hauling resumed on a 6% grade as we approached a prominent West Quartzite Range nunatak designated LL2.

A whiteout descended, making the snow surface ahead invisible, which created the illusion of stepping into empty space at each pace. A slight descent warned of a possible approach to an icefall, so reluctantly Gerald directed a turn westward and uphill.

Such direction changes can confuse navigation, having only seat-of-the-pants sense of direction to guide us in a whiteout. No landmark was visible, and the compass was all but ineffective so close to the south magnetic pole.

Whether from dumb luck or intuition bred of tramping in fog, we stumbled upon Gerald's pre-selected campsite marker, the first nunatak south of landmark LL2. Peak LL2 itself was still enveloped in cloud. This navigational triumph on Gerald's part aroused a hope of seeing landmark EE2 further southeast when visibility returned, where the much-delayed second survey baseline might be located. Thankfully, we fell into bed at 8:15 p.m., and quickly succumbed to sleep.

Mon 24th Dec. Camp VII sortie.

At 4 a.m. the whiteout still obscured the surroundings. By 8 a.m. the cloud had cleared sufficiently to set out a baseline, though not enough for theodolite sightings to some essential cloud-bound landmarks.

The fresh wind quickly iced up our faces with moisture from the breath, so full dress was needed. Evan and John left for peak LL2 to geologise, and also to build a cairn at the summit, so that we could extend from our survey baseline to the peak. Gerald walked southeast parallel to the West Quartzite Range in search of a site for the baseline cairn that would be visible from Station EE2. Frank walked eastwards for twenty minutes to a second nunatak south of LL2, to reconnoiter in that direction, and to build a baseline cairn.

Carrying the shovel (for cairn building), ice axe (for safety), binoculars, compass and camera gave a sense of being like a soldier in full kit. Upon arrival, cloud obscured the nearby landmarks, so nothing remained but to build a cairn and walk home. The magnetic compass proved directionless, Frank's experience on compass reconnaissance surveys in the Haast area of NZ being to no avail.

When Gerald and Frank returned, Evan and John had not yet arrived. After keeping watch for half an hour, we decided there was little to be gained from that, and crawled into the tent, as the weather had not deteriorated beyond the unpleasant strong wind.

Evan and John returned about 3 p.m., after some geology and building a cairn on LL2. A comfortable afternoon passed in the tent, scribbling more about polar life and mapping (see Appendices), and reading a few pages from “King Solomon’s Mines”. At 8 p.m. Gerald made radio contact with John Millen, and checked the chronometer at 3.5 seconds slow. About 8:30 we surrendered to sleep.

Tue 25th Dec. Camp VII: Christmas gale.

Christmas Day experienced the worst weather yet on the trip, a whiteout with wind approaching a blizzard, almost as strong as three days before, which we had guessed at 40 knots [74 km/hour], based on radio reports from other field parties.

Opening the tent door brought a dusting of powdery snow throughout the interior. Leaving the tent, one became plastered with wind-driven snow in seconds, which had to be patiently brushed off while crouching in the tiny floor space just inside the tent door. That got tiresome. During any sortie – after resisting nature’s call for as long as possible – all available receptacles were filled with snow to melt for water.

To lessen exposure to blown snow, we dug a hole in the snow by the tent door to pee into [quite an ergonomic challenge]. There didn’t seem to be any smell from the pissoir. Snow initially dug from the hole was melted for water.

Apart from considerations of ablution, Christmas gluttony had an immensely cheering effect. Having extra Tararua biscuits on Christmas Day was a luxury indeed. Usually we ate one fewer biscuit on bad weather days, so as to have an extra biscuit on man-hauling or field work days. We were grateful to those Tararua Tramping Club members who surely baked a mountain of those delicious Tararua biscuits.

For Xmas cheer, a bag of boiled sweets sat on the food box for the taking, and the Primus ran continuously all morning. Turning on the two-way radio, it was thrilling to hear Xmas telegrams relayed from family members. One from Frank’s parents read: “Xmas greetings. Trust you are fit and well. Love and best wishes. Mum and Dad.” They were camping at Lake Taupo in NZ, under more clement conditions we trusedt.

All stations linked from 11 a.m. to 1:10 p.m., bringing a fascinating succession of accounts from field parties – five or six in all – mostly stormbound in tents at altitudes up to 10,000 feet [3050 m]. Radio interference and howling winds made dramatic background sound effects, with graphic obscenities that seldom sully the ether.

Harry Gair’s party brought grim radioed news. They had two or three days supply of food and fuel remaining for the men, and none left for their sledge-hauling dogs. With blizzard and whiteout conditions prevailing, prospects seemed slim for a timely airbourne re-supply.

After lunch, discussion turned to the now pressing issue of shortage of time. The U.S. Geological Survey Topographic West party had warned us to expect only half of the days to be fine enough to work. Exigencies of food supply and pickup scheduling remained whatever the weather.

A survey baseline was vital, otherwise cumulating measurement errors could introduce excessive uncertainty into surveyed positions of landmarks. We estimated that to install a baseline would require two long days of surveying – 35 hours of outside fair weather work – not to mention meals and sleep. It would take that much time to measure a baseline and observe angles from each end to the surrounding landmarks, and to make astronomical observations for determination of latitude and longitude for position on the earth’s surface, and azimuth for the direction of north.

The afternoon wore on lazily, reading a few pages of “King Solomon’s Mines”, brooding about the weather, and snoozing. Another scheduled radio contact with John Millen (ZLYK) at 6:30 p.m. included an informative session with Ron Hewson (ZLYS) about astronomical star shots. Star shots are more accurate than the astronomical solar shots that we had been observing.

At 8:30 p.m. Gerald and Frank dressed for Christmas dinner at chez Evan and John. On the way out, Frank filled the kerosene bottle, but mislaid the funnel. Any item absent-mindedly set down outside immediately blows away, or gets covered with snow. Later, the funnel turned up in our cluttered tent.

We all crammed into Evan and John’s tent. What a glorious feast they turned on!

Menu à la carte Christmas Dinner (like it or lump it).

Entrées:
Penguin steaks (Freeze-dried steaks to perfection, unlike the cooked cardboard of yore).
Antarctic Variety Rapid Growing Yeast (known in less refined circles as spud powder).
Victoria Land Algae (Scott Base vegetables).

Dessert:
John Moir’s milk pudding (who allegedly had a hand in it at some stage).
Jelly (watery on the top and rubbery on the bottom).
Chocolate sauce à la Hayton.

Extras:
Tararua Antarctic biscuits with butter and Marmite.
Chocopog delights (a concoction of oatmeal and Nestlé’s Vitality dark chocolate).
Coffee in the lounge.

After dinner came much jocularity and pleasurable groaning and rolling on the air mattresses. Fortunately, the mattresses survived the punishment, as it would have been dire if either an air mattress or someone’s bloated body had split. Groaning turned to idle conversation, focussing on The Joys of Eating, which passed the evening pleasantly until Gerald and Frank left at midnight.