A Day to Die For: 1996: Everest's Worst Disaster - One Survivor's Personal Journey to Uncover the Truth (46 page)

In high-risk sports, of which altitude climbing is certainly one, experience and heeding the danger signs are what protect us. On Everest, where climbing reaches the beginning of the stratosphere and life lies in the balance, such knowledge is critical. In 1996, the signs of potential danger had been there for all to see, as our radio calls to question the weather conditions had shown. But Rob Hall and Scott Fischer were the ones who had undertaken rescues in the past; they were two highly experienced mountaineers. We had no way of knowing that on this occasion the obsession with regard to the competition between their two businesses, the need for success, had turned their strengths into vulnerability.

I was beginning to understand my feelings of guilt. The sign on 10 May that Rob and Scott may have acted irresponsibly was the fleeting sight of two head torches glimmering on the far side of the South Col. From that, I thought I should have deduced a disaster was under way; in hindsight, this might be possible, but at the time, given the excellent reputations of Rob and Scott, there was not a chance. It had not been unwillingness on our part to offer assistance but the lack of comprehension of the situation on 10 May that had given rise to the feelings I carried with me. Willingness, by necessity, must be connected to an understanding of the situation before anyone can benefit. To achieve the latter, if you have not been informed as to the circumstances, then either an element of intuition or fortuitous luck are needed; on 10 May 1996, I’d had neither. No one came to ask us for help that night. Bad luck, misunderstanding and poor visibility had denied Anatoli our assistance. Of the others, Stuart Hutchison alone had tried to raise help; luck and visibility had not been on his side either. We had always had within us the willingness to assist those in desperate need, but through fate the opportunity wasn’t to be given to us. Therefore, surely we should not have to bear guilt. I understood we would always carry the regret that we were in a position to have rescued people but had not been able to. This, I had to accept.

However, this was just part of the jigsaw I had been struggling to put together over the last four years, of which our team was but a single piece. Rob and Scott knew this storm was coming, as did others. I needed to establish the significance of this new information and then speak to those who had either written about or publicly discussed the disaster, to find out why they had not mentioned these earlier forecasts.

Our move to France earlier that year had necessitated me changing my email address to one that could be accessed anywhere. I had sent a circular letting friends know of the change; amongst the recipients was Olwyn Hocking, to whom I mentioned I had begun to write a book about the 1996 Everest disaster.

In a bold move, she had resigned from her position as head of the regional BBC some years earlier and was now a partner in a multimedia company based in Newcastle upon Tyne. This new venture was involved in the making of community-based films and others that tackled serious issues facing sections of society. Environmental issues also formed a large part of her many ongoing commitments, as did her involvement in the local community with her husband Rob. Their enthusiasm, energy and thoughts for others seemed to know no bounds.

Olwyn had replied wishing Catherine and me luck with our new venture and asking if I’d like her to look through what I had written so far. Taking Olwyn up on her generous offer would turn out to be the best move I could have made. A highly intelligent lady who far outstrips my more modest abilities, her vast experience in journalism brought a critical eye that was complemented by advice and positive suggestions. She would remain on board throughout the development of the manuscript and my ongoing research, always approaching problems with optimism.

Whenever Catherine and I had cause to be back in north-east England, Olwyn and I would meet up at a cafe called Jack Spratts for a morning coffee, to discuss the progress being made.

Considerable steps forward had been achieved with regard to the weather forecasts in 1996. However, we were both worried that if I placed my findings in the public domain prematurely, without establishing the importance of this information, I would be seen to be unfairly criticising those who had knowledge of the forecasts and had not placed such information in their subsequent accounts. We knew I needed to show that these forecasts for the Everest region had been taken seriously and been carefully looked at; that they contained specific information for climbing in the form of wind speeds and temperatures at several altitudes.

At Olwyn’s suggestion, I contacted Henrik once more. This took the form of several questions and answers by email between Henrik and myself over late 2008 and into the spring of 2009. I wanted to confirm the format in which the two forecasts had been received and to show the importance they had been given. These I have set out below.

Henrik’s replies demonstrated the serious manner in which the incoming information was treated. However, I needed to know in greater detail what was being received and who was accessing it.

I’d already tried, more than once, to get the contact details of Helen Wilton and Dr Ingrid Hunt, the Base Camp managers of Rob’s Adventure Consultants and Scott’s Mountain Madness expeditions respectively, by emailing the companies concerned. I’d received no reply from Adventure Consultants, but on the second attempt Mountain Madness did take the time to respond, saying they no longer had any contact details for Dr Ingrid Hunt. However, Henrik’s last response concerned me, as this indicated that Anatoli may have been amongst those looking closely at the forecasts, and if he was, then I needed to know.

So I asked the straight question:

It was apparent from Henrik’s replies that Rob Hall’s, Scott Fischer’s and the Imax team’s Base Camp managers had all seen the forecasts. This was also true for the Danes, David Breashears, Ed Viesturs, Rob Hall and Scott Fischer, but in their case, when they were up the mountain this information was radioed up to them. Neil Beidleman had also seen some forecasts. Who else had been in attendance when any of these earlier forecasts were looked at it is not possible for me to be sure.

However, one other thing that Henrik said caught me totally by surprise: ‘The Brits Duff and Todd coordinated also sometimes but our Duff/Danish/Finnish group had the most info due to DMI.’

This suggested that Henry Todd, our own expedition leader, might have been aware of the existence of forecast data. However, he could not have been aware of an incoming storm or he would have told his climbers; our safety would have been his top priority. He’d also flatly denied having knowledge of weather information that predicted a storm when I asked him back in 2005. This made sense, as Henrik had said Henry only coordinated with Mal Duff sometimes. In the case of Neal Beidleman, Henrik had informed me he was present at these meetings on some occasions, which fitted in with Neal’s awareness of the forecasts but that he dismissed them as lacking credence. This may have been true in Henry’s case as well. However, Henry not knowing about the incoming storm doesn’t preclude him from knowing that forecasts were available, and even if Henry was aware of the forecasts it looks likely that he was not kept up to speed with changing events and the approaching bad weather.

From my own perspective, I had no knowledge of our climbers receiving weather forecast information either when choosing our summit day or as we headed up for our attempt. I wanted to make sure others on my team had the same understanding.

I checked with Neil Laughton. He didn’t recall receiving any weather information prior to our first choice of 10 May or for our rearranged attempt on 11 May. Paul Deegan looked at the diary he’d kept in 1996 and could find nothing of any relevance at all to my question regarding weather forecasts prior to or during our scheduled summit bid. Both appeared to support my view.

I looked through Brigitte Muir’s book,
The Wind in My Hair
. There was no mention of a weather forecast being received prior to 10 May there either, with regard to the spring of 1996.

With all the information I had to hand, I was interested to look at the books of those who should have known about the forecasts, to see if they conveyed the full facts of the events leading up to 10 May 1996.

The most powerful form of lie is the omission, and it is the duty of the historian to make sure that those lies do not creep into the history books – George Orwell

A feeling of guilt was something I had carried with me for the past 14 years: the belief that our lack of understanding of the situation on 10–11 May 1996 had resulted in the loss of innocent lives.

However, with the information I had gathered, I now saw this in a different light. I understood that the reports written immediately afterwards were incomplete, because information vital to my understanding of what had caused the tragedy was missing.

In his book
High Exposure
, David Breashears dedicates a number of chapters to his filming on Everest and the terrible events of that year. I looked at his account, to see how it fitted with the information I’d gathered. In this first quote, he describes the days immediately prior to 5 May:

From this it would appear that, with a $7 million budget and ten scientific advisers, the leaders of the Imax expedition had bought themselves a barometer, a book on cloud patterns and a $50 radio. Great planning!

I find it rather an oversight, and somewhat misleading, that David Breashears does not go out of his way to mention either of the forecasts being accessed at this time. The importance, and relevance, of weather forecasts being received at Everest Base Camp in the days leading up to the deadly events of 10 May, which were played out in the fury of the gathering storm, are undeniable. This day is quoted as being one of the worst in the history of Everest. So why does he not spell these facts out?