Authors: Chris Turney
Perhaps surprisingly, not all the world has been explored. Although atlases proudly display our planet's coastlines, there still remain some parts of the globe untouched by humans. Some of these âunexplored regions' are found in Antarctica; others await discovery in places like Greenland, the Amazon, tropical Africa, New Guinea and under the sea. And it's important. Science and exploration can come together again and make a contribution. It's not just about putting features on a map: it's about understanding how the planet works. And as our planet faces ever-greater challenges, exploration of different environments can play an important role in helping to enthuse people about the planet.
We can learn from the discovery of Antarctica at the turn of the previous century and recapture the spirit of the age. We can exploit the expanding range of media to get the public in the field, physically and virtually. As the centenary of this amazing year is celebrated, we can take stock of how the world was electrified by scientific exploration in 1912 and use these lessons to rouse the next generation, to work on the challenges of the future together.
Institutions make wonderful efforts, developing interactive websites and writing fine press releases; but there is not enough of itâand, at a time when people are blitzed with information, scientists must speak over the noise and talk directly to them.
Getting people engaged can only help. As David said in Dunedin in 1904, âScience expects every man to learn in the simple way a child learns the great lessons of the universe⦠she wants him to learn well so that he may live well; to learn well by experiment rather than wholly through the experience of others, so that he may be self reliant and think for himself.
Thinking of this kind brings discoveries, and the discoveries of science uplift humanity.'
Scientists might help out at a local school, or describe expeditionary work using instant messaging, or upload fieldwork footage to the web. Aspiring scientists can follow these activities or, if adventurous, join an international expedition organised by groups like Earthwatch Worldwide or Raleigh International that allows people to get directly involved. There is so much to doâand so much more that can be done.
It's 17 January 2012 and I'm standing among a good-natured crowd at the South Geographic Pole. Despite it being a fresh -35°C, spirits are high. Even one hundred years on, it's not difficult to imagine what it must have been like when Scott and his men reached this very spot. Away from the research station, the brilliant blue sky frames the seemingly endless white of the Antarctic Plateau, throwing our presence into stark relief. It's a tremendous privilege to be here: to celebrate the centenary of the great scientific expedition's arrival.
Although we're in one of the remotest places on the planet, a large number of the brightly attired throng are tourists, pilgrims to this special place. When asked why they have come, all confess to being inspired by the events of a century ago. It's the spirit of adventure that's attracted them. Scott remarked on this before setting out for the pole: âWe are all adventurers here.'
This is the central lesson from a century ago: scientific exploration still plays a vital role, not only in what we can learn about the world but in how we communicate the importance of that learning. We have to be passionate about its value and, like the expeditions of 1912, reach out.
Key sections of Lord Curzon's handwritten notes from his meetings with Lady Scott (opposite) and Oriana Wilson (overleaf), April 1913. © British Library Board (MSS EUR/F112/51). A transcript of the text follows.
Lady Scott
Ma
April
16.13 Scotts words
in his Diary on exhaustion of food & fuel in depots on his return. He spoke in reference of “lack of thoughtful ness & even of generosity”. It appears Lieut Evans â down with Scurvy â and the 2 men with him must on return journey have entered &
consumed more than their shareâ¦
Mrs Wilson told me later there was a passage in her husbands diary which spoke of
the âinexplicable' shortage of fuel & pemmican on the return journey, relating to depots which had
not
been touched by Meares and which could only refer to an unau thorised subtraction by one or other of the returning parties.
This passage however she proposes to show to no one and to keep secret.
C.
Writing a book has to be one of the most self-indulgent things anyone can do. It wouldn't be remotely possible without family, friends and colleagues being polite, feigning understanding, nodding at the right time, and giving me the time to talk endlessly about Antarctic exploration and science. It still surprises me just how many ideas come from talking about things. I owe you all a great deal: more than you will ever know.
Many people have patiently answered my questions, dug out files and helped me find my way about. Without the archives dedicated to preserving the documents relating to 1912, this book would never have happened. I'd particularly like to thank Naomi Boneham and Hilary Shibata at the Scott Polar Research Institute in Cambridge (UK); Mr Oyagi, Jun Kato and Ms Sasaki at the Shirase Antarctic Expedition Memorial Museum in Nikaho (Japan); Anne Melgård and Nina Korbu at the National Library in Oslo (Norway); Helmut Hornik at the Filchner Archive in Munich (Germany); Mark Pharaoh at the Mawson Archive in Adelaide (Australia); Peta Hayes, David Smith, Douglas Russell, Polly Parry and Paul Taylor at the Natural History Museum in London (UK); William Frame at the British Library in London; Frank Bowles at the Cambridge University Library; Kevin Leamon at the Mitchell
Library in Sydney (Australia); Jan Turner and David McNeill at the Royal Geographical Society in London; Verity Andrews at the University of Reading Special Collections Service (UK); Carol at the Nottingham Central Library (UK), for aiding research; Jane Britten and Libby Watters at the Woollahra Library in Sydney; and Vicki Farmery at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery in Hobart (Australia). Their help made a huge difference.
A book on this subject and of this scope inevitably ends up being a journey of individual discovery. As part of my day job I was fortunate to work in the Antarctic in 2011 and 2012, and this had a tremendous impact on my understanding of the expeditions in the region one hundred years ago. Antarctic Logistics and Expeditions, the South Georgian government, and the British Antarctic Survey at King Edward Point were all incredibly supportive.
A host of other people also helped me find key facts or assisted me with equipment from 1912. Many thanks to Charlie Bird; Julia Collins at Madame Tussauds; Alan Cooper at the University of Adelaide; Nicholas Cox at the British Antarctic Survey; Richard Dennison at Orana Films; Bryony Dixon at the British Film Institute; Chris Fogwill and Charlotte Cook at the University of New South Wales; Brenda, Martin and Garth Franklin, who put up with me for months on end; Mark George; Stephen Haddelsey; Geir Hasle; Roland Huntford; Richard Jones at the University of Exeter; Matt McGlone at Landcare Research, New Zealand; Kathryn McLeod at the National Film and Sound Archive in Canberra; Greg Mortimer; John Murray; David Newton at the Honiton Clock Clinic; Billy Stevenson; Stephen Tredwin and Chris Turbitt at British Geological Survey; Tas van Ommen at the Australian Antarctic Division; Phil Wickham at the Bill Douglas Centre for the History of Cinema and Popular Culture, at the University of Exeter; and
Alan and Nikki Williams, whose humour and everlasting coffee supply kept me going.
Elaine Nipper prepared the fantastic mapsâthanks for all your patience on these. Annegret Larsen, and Malin and Espen Hoiseth, kindly helped in translating sections of Wilhelm Filchner's, Xavier Mertz's and Hjalmar Johansen's diaries; without them I would have had little idea what I was reading. I'd also like to thank Bob and Irene Goard at Photantiques, and Ozzie Emery from Mittagong, Australia, who guided me in the use of early twentieth-century photography and which buttons to press; I wouldn't have known what I was doing without their help, and any shocking results are entirely my own responsibility!
I would like to thank the Bickerton, David, Davis, Mawson, Scott and Shackleton estates, for allowing me to quote from private correspondence. Crown copyright documents in the India Office Private Papers of the British Library appear by permission of the Controller of Her Majesty's Stationery Office. Sarah Strong granted me permission to cite documents held by the Royal Geographical Society. Lady Kennet kindly allowed me to view Lady Scott's diaries. And Mr William Krasilovsky kindly permitted me to quote from Robert W. Service's poem âThe Lure of Little Voices'.
Of course, if I have managed to get the wrong end of the stick on any matter it remains entirely my own fault. Every effort has been made to trace copyright owners, and I would be pleased to rectify any errors or omissions in future editions.
A particularly big thanks to my editor, David Winter, whose enthusiasm, endless patience and tireless good humour kept me focused and helped me to do justice to this incredible story. David, I owe you a few drinks for this one! Many thanks also to Michael Heyward, Rachel Shepheard, Anne Beilby and the other fantastic people at Text Publishing; Kay Peddle and Will
Sulkin at Bodley Head; and Jack Shoemaker at Counterpoint Press. I couldn't have done it without you.
Family is the backbone of any endeavour such as this. My parents, Cathy and Ian, were always enthusiastic. But most importantly my wife, Annette, and children, Cara and Robert, gave me everything I dared hope for: patience, encouragement and a judicious kick up the backside when it was needed.
This will be the last book for a while, I promise!
There is a wealth of books on early twentieth-century Antarctic exploration, and ever more manuscripts and articles are available online (many of them are out of print). In particular, the Ebook and Texts Archive (
www.archive.org/details/texts
) has an amazing range of works in high resolution.