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OHYAT: Turning Back
The now officially designated First Returning Party knew they'd be turning back north, but ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO YESTERDAY, they still had to get through one last march up the Beardmore Glacier, and it wasn't going to let them off lightly.
They had left the deep soft snow behind and were on the compressed blue ice of the glacier, but had run into a section of it that was thick with crevasses. The only way to cross them was to chance your luck on a snow lid – a build-up of blown and fallen snow that plugged the top of the chasm and showed up as a white vein in the surface of the blue ice, sometimes yards across. If the snow lid gave way underfoot you were left dangling by your harness over 'blue black nothingness thousands of feet below.' (Bowers) Nearly everyone put a foot or leg through; Atch and Teddy both fell in to the length of their harnesses. Scott, who was leading, wrote: 'As first man I get first chance, and it’s decidedly exciting not knowing which step will give way.'
When they finally camped that night, there was further work to do in rearranging, redistributing, and repacking sledges, most of which was carried out by Birdie, who had a knack for this sort of thing. Cherry distributed spare clothing and odds and ends to his friends who were going on. He wrote in his diary,
And now, a distraction!
While watching the Oscars last year it struck me how much Kevin Spacey could look like Scott sometimes. He has the same hairline and facial structure, to some extent, but it was as much in how he moved his head while talking as in similar facial features. Compare, and see if I am crazy:
SPACEY: http://youtu.be/CTU2ZNof9MI?t=20s
SCOTT: http://youtu.be/PKBttUMKND4?t=9m31s
For this last day of glacial work, Birdie wrote:
So when I saw this poster I could only think one thing.
Distraction over.
Then, after striking camp on the morning of 22 December 1911 – ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO TODAY! – the two groups of men parted ways.
They had left the deep soft snow behind and were on the compressed blue ice of the glacier, but had run into a section of it that was thick with crevasses. The only way to cross them was to chance your luck on a snow lid – a build-up of blown and fallen snow that plugged the top of the chasm and showed up as a white vein in the surface of the blue ice, sometimes yards across. If the snow lid gave way underfoot you were left dangling by your harness over 'blue black nothingness thousands of feet below.' (Bowers) Nearly everyone put a foot or leg through; Atch and Teddy both fell in to the length of their harnesses. Scott, who was leading, wrote: 'As first man I get first chance, and it’s decidedly exciting not knowing which step will give way.'
When they finally camped that night, there was further work to do in rearranging, redistributing, and repacking sledges, most of which was carried out by Birdie, who had a knack for this sort of thing. Cherry distributed spare clothing and odds and ends to his friends who were going on. He wrote in his diary,
There is a very mournful air to-night — those going on and those turning back. Bill came in while I was cooking, to say good-bye. He told me he fully expected to come back with the next party: that he could see Scott was going to take on the strongest fellows, perhaps three seamen. It would be a great disappointment if Bill did not go on.
While watching the Oscars last year it struck me how much Kevin Spacey could look like Scott sometimes. He has the same hairline and facial structure, to some extent, but it was as much in how he moved his head while talking as in similar facial features. Compare, and see if I am crazy:
SPACEY: http://youtu.be/CTU2ZNof9MI?t=20s
SCOTT: http://youtu.be/PKBttUMKND4?t=9m31s
For this last day of glacial work, Birdie wrote:
Scott was fairly wound up, and he went on and on. Every rise topped seemed to fire him with a desire to top the next, and every rise had another beyond and above it. We camped at 8 p.m., all pretty weary ...
So when I saw this poster I could only think one thing.
Then, after striking camp on the morning of 22 December 1911 – ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO TODAY! – the two groups of men parted ways.
It was quite touching to say farewell to our good pals – they wished us luck, and Cherry, Atch, and Silas quite overwhelmed me .... I am sending this [journal] by my friend Cherry, whose going back I feel muchly, though we cannot all go on, worse luck.Birdie Bowers
It was a sad job saying good-bye. It was thick, snowing and drifting clouds when we started back after making the depôt, and the last we saw of them as we swung the sledge north was a black dot just disappearing over the next ridge and a big white pressure wave ahead of them.... Scott said some nice things when we said good-bye. Anyway he has only to average seven miles a day to get to the Pole on full rations—it's practically a cert for him. I do hope he takes Bill and Birdie.Apsley Cherry-Garrard