Call of the White (21 page)

Kim was having particular trouble. Still shaken by the tiny blister under her eye, she had overcompensated by wearing an additional layer of face-covering which left no skin exposed but which also meant her breath couldn't escape. Her goggles had been hopelessly fogged from the moment we set out. She could see enough to follow the sledge in front but not much more. Kim had never been the strongest skier in the team and she found the hard, uneven sastrugi challenging even when she could see them properly. Now, with flat light and fogged goggles she fell frequently and a gap appeared in the line ahead of her. I slowed the pace of the team and put Kim near the front of the line but she slowed down to the point where the rest of the team were getting cold, putting on big mitts and extra layers to keep warm. I skied alongside Kim to try to give her some tips on keeping control of her skis. She listened and tried everything I suggested but there didn't seem to be a lot of improvement. I could see that she was frustrated and angry with herself, worried that she was holding back the team. I tried to be encouraging, reassuring her that it was all a matter of practice, but I was aware that she was withdrawing into her own world and losing heart.

Our first break was a disaster. I watched glumly as the girls moved slowly and awkwardly to fetch snack bags and flasks out of their sledges, seemingly taking an age just to put on a jacket to keep themselves warm while we stopped. It was frustrating to watch but I bit my tongue, telling myself that they would get better, that this was still training. We were aiming for our breaks to be just seven minutes long. This was long enough to do everything we needed to do during the breaks but not long enough to get too cold. Ten minutes would have been acceptable but it was a full 20 minutes before we were ready to start moving again. ‘This break has been way too long,' I announced as we moved off. ‘Only do what is absolutely essential and think about being more efficient. Think about the time.' As I spoke Era moved to one side and started undoing her harness. ‘What are you doing?' I demanded.

‘I need to pee,' she answered, unzipping her trousers.

‘Sorry but there's no time. You'll have to wait till next break.'

Era looked at me aghast and started bouncing on her skis, ‘But I need to go. I can't hold it in.'

I sighed. It was clearly futile to make my point now but as we all waited for Era I lectured the team on getting organised.

The weather had closed in even further. The wind that had been simply cold now blew wet snow at us that encrusted our clothing with icy slush. The air was thick with snow and the grey streak that had indicated a horizon now disappeared completely. The ground was as white and formless as the sky above. Nothing was distinct except for the figure in front and the figure behind; everything else was a mere supposition. With nothing visible to aim for, it became difficult to follow a compass bearing. It seems that the body has no instinctive ability to move in a straight line and without any points of reference the mind can't be trusted. If your eyes are lifted from the compass needle for so much as a second, within a few steps you have veered off course to left or right, often without realising it. As I watched Reena lead the team in an arc to the right, several team members shouted warnings to her but she was adamant that she was skiing straight ahead. It was only when she turned to find the team spread out in a sharp bend behind her that she believed her mistake and pulled out her compass to re-check her bearing.

Our pace had reduced to a painfully slow shuffle in the deteriorating visibility and everyone was fed up. I wanted the team to practise tent routines and thought that if we stopped now, the weather might have cleared a little by the time we were ready to move again. As the team split into our two tent groups I played my part in the routine, rolling out the tent on the snow and then simply hanging onto it in the wind until the others had firmly staked it to the ground. I could hear Era and Steph shouting to each other at the far end of the tent and it was clear that tempers were rising. As the discussion got heated I called them all over. Still hanging onto the tent I asked them to huddle together and we talked through the routine. ‘Right, is everyone clear what they need to do?' I asked when we had finished. They all nodded and within minutes the tent was up and secured to the ground. Steph shovelled a final heap of snow around the front of the tent while Sophia and Era were already inside laying out equipment.

I looked across at the other tent a little way off and was surprised to see that it still wasn't pitched. It was up, but had no tension in the material. Helen and Kim were kneeling over one of the tent poles trying to get the end seated in the tent fabric. I went over to help and heard Helen talking to Kim. ‘Go inside, Kim – if you've got cold hands get inside.' I looked down at Kim's hands to see that she was wearing only her thin cotton liners. She'd clearly been using them for the fiddly jobs that were made harder by wearing mittens, which were warmer but clumsy. Her liners had snow clinging to them and I knew they would be wet.

I was annoyed as we had talked so often about not giving in to this exact temptation. I was even more annoyed that rather than look after her hands, Kim was insisting that she stay outside to help. ‘Kim!' I shouted. She hadn't seen me approach and both Kim and Helen jumped as I yelled over the wind. ‘Get in the tent and get your hands warm. You're no use out here in those gloves.' She left and I knelt down to help Helen but when I looked up a few minutes later I saw that Kim had returned – icy gloves still on. ‘Kim, get in the tent and don't come out again,' I pointed to the tent door, really angry this time that she could be so stubbornly reckless. ‘Go and get your hands warm.' Kim opened her mouth to argue, then saw the look on my face and changed her mind. I watched her duck inside the tent to make sure that this time she followed my instructions. I helped Reena and Helen secure the tent with big snow blocks until they too, ducked inside.

Returning to my tent, I looked around. The weather didn't show any signs of improving but to stop for the day would be disappointing. We had only travelled a few nautical miles; I had hoped to do a lot more. Era and Sophia had made a good job of sorting out the inside of our tent: it was warm and cosy with everything in its right place. I stripped off the worst of my icy layers before shuffling back to the first tent to check on Kim. As I slipped into the porch the contrast between the two tents couldn't have been more pronounced. Helen, Reena and Kim sat in a huddle in the middle of the tent still in their outside clothes and surrounded by all their equipment mixed together in a big heap. Kylie had lit the stoves at the far end of the tent but it was still so cold that ice clung to the tent walls and the whole place felt damp.

My mouth fell open in surprise. Helen, Kylie and Reena were the three most experienced team members and they should have known better. Regardless of their experience, we had trained better than this in New Zealand. Out of respect, I had always held back from being as dictatorial with Helen, Kylie and Reena as I had been with the other team members. The last thing I wanted to do was to insult half my team by telling them what they already knew but neither would I let them get so sloppy. ‘Right, you need to sort this place out,' I announced firmly. I tore through the heap of equipment, telling them exactly where to put each item and reeling off a list of instructions to each of them. ‘Kylie, switch off the stoves until you have all the cooking equipment and food up in the kitchen area. Helen, rearrange the sleeping mats so that they lie over each other and form a kind of carpet. Kim, get all kit and clothing off the floor and hanging on the washing line. Reena, nominate a corner for each person and put all their things together…'

For a few minutes, the tent was thrown into chaos but soon it was warm and tidy. With the stoves back on, I insisted that they take off their outer layers and bring the stoves right inside the tent so that they could thoroughly warm up. Kim sat on one side of the tent with her legs curled inside her sleeping bag. She was noticeably quieter than usual. ‘How are your hands?' I asked her. She held them out and I gripped each hand for a second to check that they were warm. Kylie had given her a hot drink and she clutched it as we talked about her mistake with her gloves and her refusal to go inside the tent when she was cold. She apologised miserably but somehow I felt that she was still missing the point. ‘I know you want to help but if your hands are cold you have to make them your first priority. Everyone understands that. No one will think you are abandoning your job.' There was nothing left to say so I let the conversation move on to other things. Gradually, Kim became more talkative. By the time I left she was sewing some elastic to the nose piece of her balaclava and laughing along with everyone else.

The next morning I was strapping on my ski boots in the porch of the tent when I heard Reena at the door. ‘Kim has a blister on her finger,' she called through the tent wall.

My heart beat faster in my chest and I felt sick. ‘OK – I'll be over,' I answered, careful to keep my voice casual. ‘Stay in the tent for now.' As I tied the laces of my boots and pulled on my hat I tried to look nonchalant so that my tent-mates weren't alarmed but inside, that familiar dread I had been living with for the past two years once again gripped my stomach. In Antarctica a blister really only means one thing and that is frostbite. Frostbite is caused by the cells in the skin freezing. As the frozen flesh warms up, it swells and protective blisters form over the injury. Even so, I clung to the vain hope that there would be an explanation that didn't involve cold injuries. ‘Please, please be a normal blister,' I thought to myself. ‘Please, please.'

Kim was still sat in her sleeping bag as she held out her finger to show me. The very tip of it was a pale colour and slightly swollen with an angry pink line running around the edge. It confirmed what I had suspected: it was frostbite. I had Kim put her hand back in the warmth of the sleeping bag but was aware that she was scrutinising my face for my reaction. I didn't want to use the word frostbite, partly because I didn't want to panic her or the rest of the team and partly because I didn't want to admit it to myself. ‘I think you might have a cold injury,' I said finally. ‘So I think we should call Patriot Hills so that a doctor can take a look.' She looked into my eyes for a second, then nodded silently. Helen handed me the satellite phone and I called the emergency number we had been given. Patriot Hills answered immediately. The voice on the line promised to send the doctor out to us and I gave our position. While we waited I tried to work out exactly what had happened.

‘Did your hands get cold last night?' I asked her.

Kim looked down at her hands, shaking her head as if in amazement.

‘I don't think so,' she said. ‘It was warm last night. I woke up once and had my arms out of the sleeping bag but my hands weren't
cold
.'

‘And did you see or feel anything last night? Any blisters or numbness?'

‘No, nothing.'

It was clear that the frostbite must have struck the previous day while Kim was outside with cold hands and wet gloves and that I just hadn't noticed the injury that evening in the tent, but the fact that Kim had been sewing with what would turn out to be frostbitten fingers was extraordinary.

Leaving Kim in the care of Helen and Reena with instructions to keep drinking the hot, sugary drinks being prepared by Kylie, I left the tent to wait outside for the doctor. I wanted to be away from Kim in case my face betrayed my thoughts. I didn't know how severe the frostbite might be – only the doctor could tell us that – but I knew it was unlikely Kim would be able to continue on the expedition. If it had been anyone else there might have been the possibility that they could look after the injury themselves and continue but Kim was finding the challenges of the expedition difficult enough without this added burden. If she allowed her injury to get cold again, her finger would be permanently damaged.

The doctor smiled as he arrived but looked unimpressed. He crawled inside the tent and crouched next to Kim. As she pulled off her gloves to show him the injury, curls of steam rose into the air. ‘Are your hands damp?' he demanded, clearly alarmed. He slipped a hand alongside Kim's thermal layer, under her smock. ‘Her clothes are damp too,' he reported, shooting me an accusing look of disgust. Kim's clothes had not been damp earlier but in her anxiety to keep warm, she had clearly over-dressed and started to sweat. I felt a flash of exasperation at those looking after Kim for allowing her to get too hot; and at myself for not checking.

The doctor took Kim back to the base camp so that he could take a better look at her injury. Getting the tents down as quick as we could, the team followed on skis. I skied silently at the back of our line, my mind processing what had happened. I was furious at Kim: she knew better than to let her gloves get wet and now, thanks to just a few moments of carelessness, there was a good chance she would be going home. I was angry at her tent-mates too: why had nobody noticed her ice-encrusted liners and forced her to go inside? And finally I admonished myself for not taking better care of her. I couldn't be everywhere at once but now it was clear that I should have been sticking closer to Kim. Why hadn't I left Helen to deal with the tent pole and followed Kim into the tent to make sure that she warmed her hands properly? I felt foolish, too, for not noticing her injuries the previous day; I should have made a more thorough inspection of her hands that evening.

Arriving back at Patriot Hills I left the team to set up the tents while I went to find the doctor for his verdict. He was already on his way across the camp to meet me, ‘She has frostbite in six fingers,' he announced as he drew close. It was clear he was angry. I put my hand over my mouth in shock. I thought of Kim and didn't know what to say. ‘Where is she?' I asked. The doctor took me to a Portakabin that had been converted into a dormitory. Kim was curled in a sleeping bag on one of the bunks. When she sat up I saw that six of her fingers were thickly wrapped in bandages. It made her hands effectively useless and she was unable to do the simplest tasks for herself. She'd been crying. I sat next to her and gave her a hug. ‘I've spoken to the doctor and although your fingers will heal completely at the moment, if you get them cold again it could be much worse. To continue with the expedition would be too big a risk – no expedition is worth losing digits.'