"Scott's Last Expedition"

I think it all started when, as a kid, I read, To Build a Fire, the short story by Jack London. I was a child of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and the Lake Superior snow belt, so I knew what winters could mean. I knew cold, down to about -30 F., but finding that the main character in this story was experiencing -75 F. as he attempted to dry his feet, fired my imagination. 

Over the years and into my adulthood, I sought out stories of the far north. I'm sure I read at least dozens, probably scores of them. At one point, I even entertained a fantasy of overwintering in Alaska, miles from anywhere, alone in a cabin on a river with sled dogs for company.  I'd sometimes work on drawing up a list of supplies necessary for man and dogs for such an adventure. (Cocoa was high on the list early on, but morphed into scotch much later) 

Then, some years ago, I started reading the on-line journal of Captain Robert Falcon Scott and his disastrous attempt to be the first to reach the South Pole.  When we moved to Auckland, we went to Kelly Tarlton's Sea Life Aquarium, where I was able to see a replica of Scott's Antarctic Hut. 

While I applauded the bravery of Scott and his men, as I continued to read and research his expedition in greater depth, I became aware of how little they really knew of what confronted them, and even more damaging, how little they knew of what their clothing, travel and nutritional needs should be. 

He and his men started their journey from England in 1910, they landed on Antarctica in 1911, the polar team died in 1912, and the book, chronicling his last expedition and containing his journal, was published in 1913. 'What a book to read,' I thought to myself.  

It's funny how things have a way of working out sometimes. One never knows what lies just around the corner.

A few years ago, around my birthday, a guy moved into Waitakere Gardens. I'd see him in the halls now and then, and he seemed an intelligent and amiable sort. Since a tradition of mine has been to give out miniature bottles of scotch (whiskey) to friends on my birthday, I stopped him as we passed one day, introduced myself, and presented him with a bottle. That led to an invitation to his apartment for a couple of beers, where I got to know him a little better. 

It turned out that he is an artist, educator, film-maker, and historian. He has lived a remarkable life, rubbed shoulders with fascinating people and is full of stories. Over the years since, he and I have had many conversations, usually in the lounge in front of the fireplace in our own Opanuku Cafe. I'm not without a few stories myself.   

Not long ago, during one of our chats, I mentioned my fascination with Scott. He suggested that I stop over sometime, that he had some books on the subject. Accordingly, a few days later, I gave him a call and arranged a visit.  

When I arrived, he showed me to his library, a small, comfortable room with lots of light and two easy chairs. His collection of tribal masks and shelves of books covered two walls. We made ourselves comfortable.  Reaching up, he grabbed a couple of books and presented me with his first edition, two-volume set of Scott's Last Expedition. 

I was in awe. The books I was holding were 112 years old. I never thought that I would get the chance to see them, much less hold and read them. Now, they were mine to borrow, study and enjoy.  

As I type this, they are sitting on my reading table, next to my recliner and lamp. I've spent the last several days paging carefully through them and discovered that they contain, not surprisingly, more than just Scott's journal, with which I was already somewhat familiar. One section talked about the winds that Scott's party endured, versus the winds that Amundsen's men reported during their simultaneous, and successful bid to reach the pole first.   

I found it all very interesting since I also have Amundsen's journal saved on my computer and have spent many, many hours comparing the two expeditions.

My inclination here is to continue writing, describing what I've learned about both treks. I'd love to tell you about it because I find it fascinating, but there is just too much to say. I think rather, I'll end with my thanks to Ray for loaning me two of his treasures.  

I'm not going to keep them long. I've already gone through them enough to suit me. I know what they look, feel and even smell like now. (I've said it before, there's nothing like the smell of old books.) And I've even taken their picture to share with all of you.  

Now, as I continue to study about Scott and Amundsen from other sources, I'll remember these tomes. The descriptions of events from both explorers will come alive for me as never before.  There's no doubt about it. Ray, I owe you a bottle of the best. 

-djf