Meanwhile, at Cape Evans ...
Oct. 5th, 2011 12:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tealinIt's been quite a long while since I've posted a 'One Hundred Years Ago Today,' but that's because not much of note has been happening at Cape Evans of late, or rather no single thing of enough significance to commemorate the anniversary. Even the return of the sun was drawn out over several days on account of a blizzard the day it was supposed to peep over the horizon.
But we're about to get back into centenary season pretty quickly here, so: a recap of what's been going on since the Crozier Party got back.
As the light has improved, and the start of the Southern Journey draws nearer, much time has been spent exercising the ponies and training them in sledge work ... with mixed success:
A few weeks ago Scott took Birdie, as well as Taff Evans and the meteorologist George Simpson on a sledging trip to the mainland west of Ross Island. They did a little bit of glaciology, but mostly it seems to have been a preliminary excursion to practise sledging for the upcoming trip, and to toughen up Dr Simpson a little, as his job was mostly tabulating results from various instruments and not, e.g., melting his way into his socks in the morning, or any number of other things which make for a 'glorious' sledging life.
A number of people have been learning photography from Ponting, the expedition's photographer, who is very particular but eager and willing to share his vast knowledge on the subject. I'm not sure if the official designation has happened yet but one of his students is Frank Debenham, who he trains to be his replacement for the next year, because he's going home when the ship comes back in the summer. The official record doesn't say who it is in this photo, but I'm pretty sure it's Deb – at any rate it's one of my favourites.
Ponting has also been taking a lot of cinematograph footage – most of the 'larking about at Cape Evans' you see in his film** was probably shot at this time.
Of course this has all been filled out with SCIENCE! all day every day, as well as a new edition of the South Polar Times, which I'll be talking about later.
*Scott has this as a Wednesday when in fact in 1911 the third was a Tuesday, so whether he was right about the date or the day of the week I don't know.
**This is 90° South, the 1933 version of his original, The Great White Silence, which was (appropriately) silent. It was shot at 18 frames per second but the addition of sound (Ponting's own narration!) required it run at 24fps so everything runs about 1/3 faster than life. The whole thing is on YouTube, you guys, what a fascinating modern age we live in!
Coincidentally, and of far lesser importance, some point this week marks three years since I completely fell for the radio play that started it all. Stef Penney, Kate McAll, and the cast and crew at BBC Wales: I cannot ever thank you enough.
But we're about to get back into centenary season pretty quickly here, so: a recap of what's been going on since the Crozier Party got back.
As the light has improved, and the start of the Southern Journey draws nearer, much time has been spent exercising the ponies and training them in sledge work ... with mixed success:
Oates is having great trouble with Christopher, who didn’t at all appreciate being harnessed on Sunday, and again to-day he broke away and galloped off over the floe.
On such occasions Oates trudges manfully after him, rounds him up to within a few hundred yards of the stable and approaches cautiously; the animal looks at him for a minute or two and canters off over the floe again. When Christopher and indeed both of them have had enough of the game, the pony calmly stops at the stable door. If not too late he is then put into the sledge, but this can only be done by tying up one of his forelegs; when harnessed and after he has hopped along on three legs for a few paces, he is again allowed to use the fourth.– Capt. Scott's journal, 3 Oct 1911*
A few weeks ago Scott took Birdie, as well as Taff Evans and the meteorologist George Simpson on a sledging trip to the mainland west of Ross Island. They did a little bit of glaciology, but mostly it seems to have been a preliminary excursion to practise sledging for the upcoming trip, and to toughen up Dr Simpson a little, as his job was mostly tabulating results from various instruments and not, e.g., melting his way into his socks in the morning, or any number of other things which make for a 'glorious' sledging life.
A number of people have been learning photography from Ponting, the expedition's photographer, who is very particular but eager and willing to share his vast knowledge on the subject. I'm not sure if the official designation has happened yet but one of his students is Frank Debenham, who he trains to be his replacement for the next year, because he's going home when the ship comes back in the summer. The official record doesn't say who it is in this photo, but I'm pretty sure it's Deb – at any rate it's one of my favourites.Ponting has also been taking a lot of cinematograph footage – most of the 'larking about at Cape Evans' you see in his film** was probably shot at this time.
Of course this has all been filled out with SCIENCE! all day every day, as well as a new edition of the South Polar Times, which I'll be talking about later.
*Scott has this as a Wednesday when in fact in 1911 the third was a Tuesday, so whether he was right about the date or the day of the week I don't know.
**This is 90° South, the 1933 version of his original, The Great White Silence, which was (appropriately) silent. It was shot at 18 frames per second but the addition of sound (Ponting's own narration!) required it run at 24fps so everything runs about 1/3 faster than life. The whole thing is on YouTube, you guys, what a fascinating modern age we live in!
Coincidentally, and of far lesser importance, some point this week marks three years since I completely fell for the radio play that started it all. Stef Penney, Kate McAll, and the cast and crew at BBC Wales: I cannot ever thank you enough.
