Almost invariably if you say you’re off to

 

South Georgia, people assume you’re going

 

somewhere near Alabama or more likely they

 

think you’re going somewhere where there

 

might be terrorists down near the Caucasus.

 

It’s amazing how many people in Britain

 

do not realise that we own this island down

in the Southern Ocean on the edge of Antarctica.

 

To reach South Georgia we had to sail across

 

the vast Southern Ocean. Our team comprised

 

legendary climber and expedition leader Stephen

Venables, social entrepreneur and climber

 

Rodrigo Jordán, ski mountaineer Nick Putnam

and myself, David McMeeking, a climber from Kent.

 

Who better to sail with than Skip Novak?

And what better to sail on than his 75 foot

 

Pelagic Australis, the yacht that he built

himself expressly for Antarctic expedition.

 

My ocean racing career, I did four around

 

the world races and in those days I was the

 

navigator on board at the age of 25. I navigated

around the world with a sextant and a timepiece

 

in those days, this was pre-GPS, pre-satellite

navigation. In ’85/’86 I skippered for

 

Simon Le Bon on a boat called Drum in the

Whitbread Race. Every time I went around the

 

world passing these amazing locations looking

up at these mountainous areas I said,

 

one day I’ve got to go there.

 

We set off on the five-day crossing of the

 

Southern Ocean in fairly benign conditions

but pretty soon, storm force winds were forecast

 

and the temperatures were set to plummet.

 

Well, the Southern Ocean, if you look at it

 

from a polar view of the Antarctic, it’s

a ring going right around Antarctica, so it’s

 

unimpeded wind and sea conditions, totally

around the globe at that latitude.

 

The seas there seem to be very confused. The

waves seem to be coming from every direction

 

and everything’s pitching and turning and

tossing and going up and down and from side to side.

 

We’re also depending on that boat, on the

 

Pelagic Australis, and you need to be very

 

careful about the boat because if something

 

goes wrong with the boat then you’re going

 

to be in real, real trouble.

 

I think the speedo was reading 68.8 knots

 

and Skip had been residing on his bunk with

 

the waves hurling themselves around and the

boat was tossing around all over the place.

 

Skip came into the pilot house, he looked

out of the window and his words were simply,

 

‘F***ing hell.’

 

I was focused on the forthcoming climbing

 

but it wasn’t just the day and night sailing

of the Southern Ocean that we had to endure

 

but the really dramatic icing up that we experienced

on the boat.

 

We came up with a proposal to go down there

in winter. We worked on this theory that might

 

have been flawed about, well, if October is

good, August and September have got to be better.

 

Nobody had done that before, a real

winter mountaineering trip by sailboat.

 

For me, it wasn’t the risk on the mountain which

was paramount, it was actually getting there

 

and back in that winter period.

 

This is the accumulation of ice, so flung

 

sea spray coming over the bow. Never seen

anything like this.

 

We just watched the ice grow on the lifelines

and the rigging, it was like, you’d go up

 

and knock it off and then you’d just watch

it grow again. We couldn't have manipulated

 

the sails because very quickly everything

was frozen, all the blocks, all the rigging,

 

all the sheets. So we were stuck with that sail

plan which luckily was a very conservative sail plan.

 

If we would have wound up in a head sea condition

 

on the wind for some reason, you could see

how it could all go very badly for you.

 

Very quickly you’d all of a sudden have blocks

of ice high up in the rigging, the whole boat

 

eventually goes over on its side.

 

I’ve been climbing over 40 years I think, but I think what I always dreamt about, the big thing was to go on expeditions to far flung

 

but I think what I always dreamt about, the big thing

was to go on expeditions to far flung places

 

and those expeditions included a new

route up the great east face of Everest

 

which was a thrilling episode in 1988.

 

We followed on his steps. It was the first

 

South American ascent of Mount Everest and

we chose to climb the Kangshung face.

 

It's amazing how this experience is so important

in somebody’s life that it makes a border

 

between before and after. When you start thinking

about the power of the outdoor activities

 

in general, to develop other capacities within

people, you might be amazed.

 

The experience of them really re-validating

themselves as human beings, is something

 

that's worth millions really, in terms of reward.

 

I’ve climbed with Stephen Venables on rock

 

and ice and also down at my local sandstone

crag at Bowles and it’s perhaps here where

 

the seed was sown for our forthcoming adventure,

to sail down to South Georgia and attempt

 

some first ascents of unclimbed peaks down

there.

 

We survived the icing up and finally arrived

at the shores of South Georgia.

 

30 metres!

 

There was a wonderful, very, very pointy rock

 

pinnacle called Starbuck Peak. That looked

very appealing. There was a big summit which

 

we saw from the boat which no one has ever

attempted. There’s a peak called Mount Macklin,

 

named after Shackleton’s doctor, also unclimbed.

So just this whole array, peaks that no one’s

 

ever set foot on let alone reached their summit.

 

The plan was to climb in the Salvesen Range

 

but in order to do that we needed to find a

natural harbour in which we could safely anchor.

 

We want to go ashore at Trollhul, right round

 

the other side of the island. That’s the

ideal plan, Plan A, because it’s a nice

 

smooth ramp off the beach.

 

But the problem was that south west wind that

 

we had on the sail across sort of persisted

and we couldn't get around to the south west

 

coast, because with that sort of wind and

that wind speed the swell would be enormous

 

and we wouldn’t be able to land on the beaches.

You have to have reasonable conditions to

 

get a zodiac ashore safely.

 

So I said, right, I have Plan B.

Plan B was to land on the north coast

 

at a place called Iris Bay.

 

As we sailed past Iris Bay

 

you could see the katabatic winds, the willy wars

as they call them, these sort of screaming

 

winds just racing down the mountains into the

bay, spindrift just being blasted across the glacier.

 

I thought, my God, even if we

can get a boat in there, getting up on that

 

glacier is just going to be hell. So I was

at this stage starting to feel pretty gloomy,

 

really, so Plan B was out, finished.

 

Plan C I think is Larsen Harbour, which I’ve

 

skied down to before but skiing up is steep

hard work.

 

You go into Drygalski Fjord and then you take

a sharp left into another subsidiary fjord,

 

round the corner, and you’re in this extraordinary

anchorage right in the heart of the mountains.

 

Once we were in the safety of Larsen Harbour

we could finally get on with the expedition.

 

So, food bags were packed for 15 days, tents,

safety gear, cooking equipment, which was

 

split between us. Once we’d packed all our

gear and personal equipment into our pulks

 

they were damn heavy. It was also sobering

to realise we had to pull these up what we

 

knew was a steep slope out of Larsen Harbour.

 

It’s quite steep up there.

 

So we started offloading the gear by stages

and making a cache at the snout of the glacier.

 

The idea was to cache some gear up and then

come back to the boat and it turned out to

 

be a monumental struggle.

 

I think Skip went first, heaving these monstrous

 

loads up this slope. It was marginal traction

as you were climbing up with your skis, the

 

fur skins on, and this beast behind you

that kept swinging round but it was getting

 

steeper and steeper, more and more marginal.

It was getting very depressing and I kept

 

looking up. I think we all kept looking up

at that pass up above and you could just see

 

all this stuff just swirling around.

 

Once we got up high it was evident there was

 

a slab avalanche condition brewing as well.

It was quite deep snow and it was getting

 

slabby and we had to traverse a big long slope

to get up there. I certainly took a pull.

 

It was beginning to look as though our plan

would turn into a task of taking all this

 

stuff up to the top onto the glacier, leaving

it up there, returning to the boat while the

 

weather worsened and then eventually, in a

few days’ time, going back up and bringing

 

it all down again.

 

I think there was a lot of doubt, the whole

thing didn't feel right.

 

That was our last chance of getting into the

Salvesen Range.

 

We got back to the boat and I actually lay

 

awake in my bunk that night feeling very gloomy

and anxious and nervous and depressed and

 

with horrible visions of going across that

slope and a slab going and someone being injured

 

or even killed in an avalanche.

 

You’re willing to take I think a certain

 

amount of risks, almost we’ve all agreed

that what level of risk we wanted to take.

 

I voted for, and was probably one of the first

ones to say, I think we should bail and go

 

north and think again.

 

I think we need to go out and do something today.

 

What should that be? Take a light look?

 

I don’t see any point in taking loads to

 

the col if we’re not going to continue

with it. If we’re not going to do this,

 

we’d be better off getting the stuff back

down and switching the whole plan to doing

 

day trips and forget about trying to ski through

the Salvesen Range.

 

This was a bit of a no-win situation that

we were banging our heads against a brick

 

wall and that we should cut our losses and

bail out and go and do something else.

 

We could get all things out of the rock today.

 

Sure.

 

If we make an effort we can get everything out.

 

Absolutely.

 

The objectives that we set would be fantastically

 

exciting if we could get them done. It depends

also the risk and the danger that’s associated

 

with taking a particular course of action.

 

I’d be reluctant at this stage to just abandon

 

everything and go just for day trips.

 

Sure.

 

I was totally gutted that the expedition to

the Salvesen Range was effectively over.

 

It felt like the six months that I’d spent

preparing for this expedition, all my dreams

 

that I’d associated with climbing in the

Salvesen Range, were shattered and we were

 

walking away with achieving nothing.

 

Things really started to look up when we just started

 

to do other things on the island. Here we

were on South Georgia, we had a chance to

 

go out and ski mountaineer some other peaks

on day trips and get to see the amazing wildlife

 

that exists on the island.

 

We did visit the abandoned whaling stations

 

on South Georgia and it was a stark and sombre

reminder of the horrendous whaling industry

 

that had taken place there.

 

There was a rather poignant moment

when we visited the grave

 

of Sir Ernest Shackleton and I think this

was perhaps when the history of the island

 

really started to sink in.

 

‘I hold that a man should strive to the

 

uttermost for his life’s set prize.’

Robert Browning.

 

I think the plan to climb The Tridents emerged

as we were sailing north and it was obvious

 

that they were there.

 

The middle Trident does look splendid.

 

You’ve got this perfect view of the three

peaks. You could just see them, just there,

 

one, two, three, in this immaculate blue sky.

 

It began to be obvious that we might be able

 

to reach them and get onto land and I certainly

remember having my own imagination and enthusiasm

 

and ambition all at once fired up.

 

It was all calm, no wind, perfect visibility,

 

until we got round into Possession Bay where

we decided in our wisdom that that’s where

 

we should land. And then it was just back

to the same old game again.

 

We got into Possession Bay,

all hell breaking loose in the bay.

 

We were at the south end of the island and

 

it was terrible weather. Now we’ve come

to the north end of the island and it’s

 

also horrendous. The middle was pretty good.

We left. We must be completely crazy.

 

The thing is to find the horrendous weather,

that’s the secret.

 

Just getting the gear ashore was enough of a business.

 

The thought of actually moving anywhere was horrendous.

 

And in the morning it was no better.

 

Ok, let’s go!

 

Turned out nice again!

 

At one point, Skip did actually whisper across,

hey, do you think we should just bail, just

 

get out and forget about this? I said, what,

now? We go back to the boat?

 

Whose f***ing idea was this?

 

It was the right decision just to keep pushing on and fight through it.

 

We climbed up to the col. It was a very hard day.

It was a very, very hard day.

 

The first thing we did was build a wall.

 

It's very satisfying sawing up blocks of snow and

building the wall.

 

Venables, come for tea.

 

And then carrying on with the business of

 

putting the tents up, which is quite a performance

and you’ve got to be damn careful that you

 

don’t let go of anything because on South

Georgia if you let go of something, it’s gone.

 

I can’t resist a bit of building.

 

I’m quite happy. I mean, the tents are quite

calm with this huge wall we’ve built here.

 

We need a change of weather to see where we’re

going for a start and a bit of a calmer day

 

to actually sort everything out now that we’re

on our way.

 

Day two dawned beautiful, it was a bit windy

and then the wind died right away and it was

 

just an immaculate day.

 

Right, now we’re just packing up leaving

 

this amazing walled city. Such a glorious

day, it doesn't get much better than this

 

in South Georgia, so enjoy it.

 

I like these blue gloves.

 

We headed into the interior of the island,

set for a camp at the base of The Tridents.

 

Again the history of the island confronted us as we

passed that lower section of the Trident Ridge.

 

This had been crossed by Shackleton

back in 1916 when he traversed the island.

 

We’re on the Murray glacier having come

up from the Shackleton Gap.

 

We went up the Murray glacier. While we were

on the Murray we looked up at the Trident

 

Ridge where Shackleton, Crean and Worsley

passed and it was a very dramatic moment when

 

they got up to that ridge. The Trident Ridge

was a very significant part of that traverse,

 

they had a dramatic incident there and this

is what Shackleton says from South about that.

 

‘After a glance over the top, I turned to

the anxious faces of the two men behind me

 

and said, “Come on, boys.” Within a minute

they stood beside me on the ice ridge.

 

We could not see the bottom clearly, owing to

the mist and bad light and a possibility of

 

the slope ending in a sheer fall occurred

to us, but the fog that was creeping up behind

 

allowed no time for hesitation. There could

be no turning back now. So we unroped and

 

slid in the fashion of youthful days. When

we stopped on a snow bank at the foot of the

 

slope, we found that we had descended at least

900 feet in two or three minutes.

 

We looked back and saw the grey fingers of the fog appearing on the ridge as though reaching after the

 

intruders into untrodden wilds.

But we had escaped.’

 

The plan was to get up to the col between

two of the Trident peaks and try and climb

 

at least one of them the next day. We got

up in the morning and it was business as usual.

 

It was clagged in, thick cloud, couldn't see anything.

So I thought, oh well, we’ll just stay in bed.

 

So, Stephen, what have we got for supper tonight?

 

Risotto, same as last time.

 

Yeah, you think, I know what’s going to happen,

I’m going to sit here now and not

 

be able to actually see where we’re going

or get up anything.

 

We’ve seen The Trident but I wasn’t really

 

into, we’re going to climb those things.

If we do, we do. If we don’t, we don’t.

 

We’re going to take this day by day.

 

The weather did perk up and the following day

 

for once, we got away really early.

We were away at first light.

 

On a good day, optimism soars down there,

if you wake up and there’s no wind and a

 

sunny day and you can’t wait to get going.

That’s why I rushed ahead of everybody else.

 

As the mists parted, there were our peaks,

our three peaks, appearing up on our left,

 

saying ‘come and climb me’.

 

I was astonished by the view. You could see

 

all the way that Shackleton had done. The

history is into you. It was absolutely amazing.

 

To one side there was the South Trident and

to the other side there was the Central Trident.

 

The South Trident had an obviously very feasible

route up it and the most obvious one to get

 

in the bag. Whilst discussing this, Rodrigo

Jordán, leader of men, said, no, no, we go

 

for the bigger one, the central one, the highest

one.

 

I don't know, I’m thinking that’s the

highest one, could we chance on that?

 

That one, we can see most of the route.

 

You want to go for the highest?

 

The high one, Rodrigo.

 

You don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.

Let's go for the highest.

 

Shall we try that one then?

 

Ok.

Good.

 

I reckon we go up I think through the… Across

the bergschrund and go round the corner.

 

And if there’s nothing easy round that corner

we just go up that gully.

 

So we went for the Central Trident peak.

 

Being selfish by nature, wanting to bag the best

climbing, I said I’m going to lead this.

 

I must admit there are moments when you’re

climbing when it’s hell, there are moments

 

when it’s tedium and it’s boring, and

there are moments when you think there is

 

nowhere else on earth I want to be right now,

and that was one of those moments, just perched

 

on this little sort of knife-edge ridge with

a very impressive drop down the other side,

 

the rest of the team coming up, perfect weather

and after all those disappointments.

 

It’s an unclimbed peak described by Shackleton

and then you’re climbing this peak where

 

there’s heroes of one.

 

We got onto the final slope.

 

Everyone was coming up and then I thought,

well, I've hogged the lead for long enough.

 

I said to David, hey, why don’t you lead this bit?

 

It seems like one minute I’m climbing with

 

Venables on a sunny Sunday afternoon down

at the sandstone crag at Bowles.

 

And here I am leading the final pitch on the

highest unclimbed peak of The Trident.

 

When you’re leading there’s a different

feeling because it’s just you, you’re

 

making all the choices. Knowing that you’re

the first person ever to be traversing on

 

there was a total thrill.

 

Raaah!

 

How good is that?

Unclimbed peak, highest peak of The Trident.

 

Pretty good. David was first to the top, congratulations.

 

What a view.

 

I have sometimes been on expeditions or on

climbs where I have thought, what the hell

 

am I doing here, why don’t I get a proper

job, this is such a stupid, miserable, boring,

 

terrifying way of spending my life. But I

have to say in recent years I seem to have

 

mellowed a bit, maybe it’s the people I’ve

gone with. I think that’s something to do

 

with it but I really felt, I’m really enjoying

this, what a treat this is.

 

What a summit. What a beauty.

 

[Cheers]

 

The Trident was first spotted and described

 

by Shackleton himself and we climbed that.