1912 (11 page)

For Robert Falcon Scott, there was only one nation that should finish what Shackleton had started: ‘In whatever measure that remaining distance is computed, it is for England to cover it.' The scene was set for 1912.

Robert Scott and the
Terra Nova
Expedition, 1910–1913

The highest object that human beings can set before themselves is not the pursuit of any such chimera as the annihilation of the unknown: it is simply the unwearied endeavour to remove its boundaries a little further from our little sphere of action.

T
HOMAS
H
ENRY
H
UXLEY
(1825–1895)

Following Shackleton's near miss of the South Geographic Pole in 1909, Robert Scott started to put his long-held plans for the south into action. The Antarctic explorer had made private enquiries to the Royal Geographical Society, wanting to know whether it would be sympathetic to his ideas. He did not expect a large amount of money from the RGS, but sought the society's stamp of approval. Leonard Darwin had advised Scott: ‘if you combine new geographical work, and scientific aims, with an effort to reach higher latitudes, you will have the warm sympathy of the Council in your efforts.'

His standing was high in many quarters. Remembering the fiasco over the election of female fellows, Markham wrote to Lord Curzon in November 1911: ‘He secured for our expedition complete success, which to us was so important. For this we owe him an immense debt of gratitude. It restored our credit to us, lost by the mismanagement of the female trouble.'
Scott's science program was endorsed with the full backing of the RGS.

Scott held off making a public announcement. He wanted to get as much in place as possible before telling the world he was returning south. But the claim and counter-claim by Cook and Peary in early September 1909 regarding the North Geographic Pole forced his hand.

On 13 September 1909
The Times
reported Scott's intentions: to claim the South Geographic Pole for Britain alongside a string of scientific aims, including geographic discovery, geology, meteorology, magnetism and biology. The expedition would follow Shackleton's approach of leaving the men south, with the vessel returning north for the southern winter. And the cost? A trifling £40,000—a little less than Shackleton's efforts. Donations could be sent to ‘36 Victoria Street, London'.

As Scott later explained in the RGS's journal, three teams would set out from a base in the McMurdo Sound, each with a geologist attached: the Southern Party would strike out for the pole; the Western Party would investigate Victoria Land; and six men would make up an Eastern Party, overwintering separately on or near King Edward VII Land, something Shackleton had attempted and failed to do. The pole was a laudable aim, Scott argued, because it was a spot untrodden by human feet. ‘Its quest becomes an outward visible sign that we are still a nation able and willing to undertake difficult enterprises, still capable of standing in the van of the army of progress.'

The other areas of exploration offered a greater understanding of the Antarctic. Unlike the McMurdo Sound region, for instance, almost nothing was known of the other side of the Great Ice Barrier. King Edward VII Land remained one of the few known places that no one had set foot on. Was it an archipelago of islands, or connected in some way to Victoria Land? Scott resolved to find out.

But, Scott argued, it was the duty of an explorer to do more than just record his movements—he ‘must take every advantage of his unique position and opportunities to study natural phenomena, and to add to the edifice of knowledge those stones which can be quarried only in the regions he visits. Such a result cannot be achieved by a single individual or by a number of individuals trained on similar lines. The occasion calls for special knowledge and special training in many branches.' The naval officer had learned his lesson from the
Discovery
expedition: this time there would be a specialist scientific team.

Charles Royds was Scott's first lieutenant on the previous journey south and, among his many roles, was the expedition's meteorologist. On returning to Britain he had spoken at the Royal Meteorological Society. ‘I most sincerely regret that I did not go thoroughly into the work before we left England,' Royds declared with disarming honesty. ‘I left with no fixed idea as to how the observations were to be taken, ignorant, I am sorry to say, of the workings of some of the instruments, and entirely ignorant of what was expected to be done by the authorities at home.'

In the report that followed the expedition, the Meteorological Office assumed—quite reasonably—that Royds's undeclared magnetic wind directions were true geographic bearings. A review of the meteorological report in the
Times Literary Supplement
made painful reading: ‘How much longer shall we have to wait in England for those entrusted with national affairs to appreciate a little more seriously the requirements of scientific investigation? Probably until the constant leak and loss which we suffer in ignorance are made plainer by one or more exceptional disasters.'

It did not matter that Scott considered the Meteorological Office to be at fault; the damage was done. Other aspects of the
Discovery
's scientific program had also been criticised. John Walter Gregory, the scientist who had so nearly led
the expedition, remarked: ‘It is disappointing to learn that we cannot expect any additions to the deep-sea fauna of the Southern ocean,' and, ‘More than once during the course of the expedition the observations desired were accidentally noticed, but the conditions are not stated with sufficient precision to be of service.' At the 1908 meeting of the Physical Society of London the organisation's president, Charles Chree, stated that another national Antarctic expedition should have something akin to a ‘scientific court martial' to make sure the outputs were of sufficient quality. The message was clear: Scott was on a short leash.

‘I have arranged for a scientific staff larger than that which has been carried by any previous expedition, and for a very extensive outfit of scientific instruments and impedimenta,' Scott told the RGS. He enlisted his old friend and colleague from the
Discovery
Edward Wilson, who agreed to be the chief of scientific staff, zoologist and the expedition's doctor. Together they set about choosing the men they needed for the job.

One of the most important questions for scientists of the era was how the Antarctic fitted into the world's climate system. Early on it had been suggested that there was a low-pressure system that sat over the region, with the air flowing southwards until it reached the pole, where it rose, returning at high altitude northwards to descend over the tropics. With the rising air, it was reasoned, there would be ample snowfall over Antarctica, helping to build and maintain the icecap. But in 1898, at a Royal Society discussion in London, John Murray concluded from Ross's observations of southerly winds bringing clear skies to the extreme south that there was a vast high-pressure system—an anticyclone—over the South Geographic Pole. If this opposing
view was true, it implied air was descending over the pole, not rising. Snowfall would be considerably less, meaning Antarctica had to be made up of ancient ice that built extraordinarily slowly compared to that in the north.

There were some tantalising clues to which theory was correct. The
Belgica
expedition noted a change in prevailing winds, from westerly in winter to easterly in summer. One interpretation of this was that the hypothesised anticyclone shifted towards the eastern hemisphere in winter as a result of a cold centre developing on that side. This not only meant a high-pressure system was the dominant feature over the ice, but that a major part of the continental mass lay to the east—something now known to be the case. Observations of clouds and smoke spouting from the volcano Mount Erebus also seemed to show there was a poleward flow of the upper air, and that the cold surface layer was probably no more than fifteen hundred metres high.

If this was all correct, how to explain the huge amount of ice seen in Antarctica? After the
Discovery
expedition Scott had remarked, ‘I must add that the warm snow-bearing southerly winds which we experienced have not yet been explained. Even in the depth of winter this wind had sometimes a temperature of +10° to +15° [Fahrenheit].' Scott had previously reported that warmer conditions were associated with the greatest amount of snowfall, paradoxically suggesting that during the last ice age conditions were warmer in Antarctica than they were in the present. Evidently no one knew how the new continent worked.

Louis Bernacchi had been responsible for the weather observations on Borchgrevink's Antarctic expedition and later wrote extensively on the subject. Over twelve months Bernacchi had used a cornucopia of scientific equipment to make daily observations, including maximum and minimum temperatures, atmospheric pressure and wind speed. Great care had to
be taken during these observations; many of the instruments struggled in the conditions. For instance, although spirit thermometers had to be used because mercury froze in the Antarctic winter, the fluid was not entirely accurate for measuring such low temperatures. Cup anemometers were used for wind speed, but these gave questionable readings over time, eventually being destroyed by gusts that exceeded 145 kilometres per hour. On his return Bernacchi made a series of recommendations on how to improve the quality of future measurements. With these, and the experience gained by the unfortunate Royds, Scott's team had essential guidance for the new expedition.

To direct this work Scott and Wilson chose George Simpson, a professional meteorologist who had been working in the Indian Meteorological Service. Simpson enthusiastically raised £500 from his local town to purchase automatic recording thermometers, barometers, anemometers and balloons to capture as much of the Antarctic climate as possible. He diligently followed the recommendations of the Royal Geographical Society's
Hints to Travellers
and had the instruments calibrated at Kew. There would be no question over the quality of the data this time.

Scott consulted far and wide on other specialists to recruit, including Edgeworth David, who had now largely patched things up with his wife back in Australia. Top of David's list was Douglas Mawson, who was visiting London at the end of the year. Mawson cabled ahead to Scott and asked whether he would be available to meet to discuss Antarctic research. Scott agreed, but was surprised to find the young Australian was not offering to enlist with him.

Instead, Mawson asked Scott if he had ‘thought of the coast W. of C. Adare'. Mawson noted in his diary: ‘He said that he had
not. I expounded the value of it to him and stated that I would join him if he would land me and a party of 3 on that coast. He was much interested in it…I was put down as a member of his expedition to be confirmed by me within 3 weeks. We had talked from noon till 3 pm. He offered me not less than £800 for the 2 years and that I should be one of 3 to form the final pole party provided nothing unforeseen happened before the final dash.'

The offer to go for the pole did not appeal to Mawson, who wanted to lead a largely scientific endeavour. His choice of Cape Adare was significant. During Borchgrevink's first visit to Antarctica he had collected geological specimens, and David's later study of them had suggested a connection to Australia. It was a hint of the landbridge connecting the continents that Mawson had pondered when he wrote to David about joining him in the south with Shackleton.

Later that month Mawson met Scott and Wilson at the expedition headquarters. Scott felt he had his hands full with the expedition plans and, according to Mawson, ‘took up a defensive attitude when I told him I would go to the north coast myself. He stated that it had always been his intention to do what he could around the north coast but could promise nothing—In fact he had now set his mind on picking the plums out of the north coast by a boat reconnaissance on the return of the ship.' Mawson might still have joined Scott if he had been made chief scientist, but Wilson already had that position. It seems Mawson was happy to keep his distance: ‘I did not like Dr Wilson,' he noted in his diary.