Header Photo: January 16th, 1972 – A view of ‘The Fid’ with the Spartans in the foreground – we had just descended the ‘Cole Glacier’ and had reached the ‘Traffic Circle’
The Ptolemy Incident – Malcolm McArthur
My intestines were in fully clenched mode by the time the skis hit the snow, but when he instantly hit full power to climb the slope, I got a real heart racing fright. However Dave roared up to the top of the col, calmly and expertly did the equivalent of a handbrake turn on the narrow ridge and the job was done. We all took a deep breath and stepped out of the aircraft.
The situation on the col was magnificent with fabulous views in every direction. Below us was a great snow expanse ringed by mountains. The Mercator Ice Piedmont and the Weyerhauser Glacier lay to the east, the Traffic Circle to the south and the Lammers Glacier ran away to the west. Behind us to the north were the Gibbs and Wyatt Glaciers which were the normal route used by the Stonington field teams on their way south from the plateau to the summer work areas.
Dominating the view to the south was the mountain known as The Fid. It sits where the Cole Glacier joins the Traffic circle and it must be one of the most beautiful mountains on the peninsula, a tempting but challenging ascent. Rob Collister and I descended the Cole in January 1972 at the end of the summer trip and camped just below it, considering a climb, but deciding against it.
Back on the col, the depot was unloaded and I set off on foot with the gravimeter to take a reading at the trig point about 200 metres away. I was almost there when I suddenly disappeared up to my armpits in a hidden hole, dangling in space with a very expensive instrument. This was a great surprise as Rob and I had visited the cairn several times the previous year with no problems. As I dangled there I thought of the ignominious position I was in. I had spent two long years in the field, travelled over 4000 miles by dog sledge, climbed many survey nunataks and several substantial mountains, crossed the worst of sea ice and had survived everything. Now that I was just about to go home, was it all going to end? Fortunately I was soon assisted from my chasm and calmly finished my science reading before carefully returning to the aircraft.
Dave revved up the Otter, turned it to face the downhill and took off like a skier at the top of a run. All on board were really pleased when the skis eventually unglued themselves from the slope and we were safely airborne, to enjoy the trip back to Stonington.
I can safely say that I was very much in awe of Dave Rowley.
Malcolm McArthur – Geophysicist, Stonington 1971 & 1972