“Why I came to be a FID” – Jonathan Walton (continued)
I left school and after a year out in Canada (before the term “gap year” had been invented) where I had my first experience of polar conditions, landing a 6 month summer job in the high Arctic with the Canadian government. But even after that I had remained immune to Polar Fever.
3 years at University studying Civil Engineering – Imperial college in London. Which coincidentally was the same college that Dad had studied Civil Engineering – before the War. I scraped through the course then started enjoying my final year – no exams, all design projects. It seemed to be the norm to apply for engineering jobs so I duly did this and was offered a job by Laings to work on the Isle of Grain Power station. What a prospect!? I think it was at this stage I was starting to wonder if this was what I really wanted in life.
And then, a red letter day – one afternoon in March 1972 my university tutor, one Alfred Stephenson (“Steve” of BGLE of course) pinned up a notice on the board just behind my drawing board. “Here’s a job that you might be interested in Jonathan” were his exact words. “British Antarctic Survey, Surveyor wanted”. I looked at it and my world changed. This was what I wanted to do – suddenly life had become different and exciting. In my usual manner I wanted to know more about what was what so next morning I rolled up at 30 Gillingham Street, Victoria and walked up to the BAS offices. The receptionist asked if she could help me and again, I can remember my exact words. “I think I want to go to the Antarctic, is there anyone I can talk to about it?” She probably rolled her eyes and thought “here’s another one” but she politely asked me to take a seat and she would go and see if Mr Salmon could see me (Eric Salmon of course, beloved friend of many FIDs through the ages). She was back very soon – “Mr Salmon is available, would you like to come this way?”
“Have a seat young man” said Eric. I did. “So, I understand you want to go to the Antarctic. How long have you been wanting to do that” he asked. “About 24 hours” I responded. He patiently asked if I realised just what was involved and what sort of life it would involve etc. I then said “Until yesterday I didn’t even know that BAS existed but now I know it does I think that something has been leading me towards this for a long time”. “What makes you think that” said Eric. “Well, my father was in the Antarctic but I didn’t realise that it might be possible for me to go too”. Almost abruptly he asked “Who’s your father?” My father is Kevin Walton”. His precise words took me aback a little. “Well, f**k me mate, put it there – and how is the old b****r anyway”. He then added clearly “It won’t get you a job, but at least I know where you come from”.
So, I duly applied but there was one big problem. . I knew very little about surveying. I duly learnt as much as possible about the subject in a short time, including going to the Imperial college field station and learning how to use a theodolite and do star sights, under Steve’s patient guidance. In due course I was offered an interview. Another problem – my potential Civil Engineering employer wanted a definite answer about whether I wanted their job. What to do – I rang up Launcelot Fleming, then Dean of Windsor and invited myself to his home in Windsor Castle (just a chance for a bit of name dropping!) for the weekend. I explained my dilemma – did I take a definite job or turn it down for the possibility of a job with BAS. Quite wisely, he refused to tell me what I should do – “this must be your decision”. Then added “… however, I have a feeling that if you really want to go to the Antarctic but turn down the remote chance of getting there, you will always have a tinge of regret about what might have been”. Then I knew exactly what I had to do and turned my back on a conventional civil engineer’s life.
In due course I was asked to go to Gillingham street for an interview. In the space of 30 minutes my world was turned upside down. My interviewers were Bill Sloman, head of BAS HR, and John Wright from the Directorate of Overseas Surveys, under whose umbrella BAS surveyors worked. At the end of the interview, Bill faced me and said “well, we like you and you seem to be the right sort of person to manage in the Antarctic – but you are not a qualified surveyor so I am afraid we can’t offer you a job. However, if you go away and become qualified then next year, if we are wanting another surveyor, we hope you will apply again”. Knowing nothing about the world of Surveying I asked “How do I qualify as a Surveyor?” John answered “go to University College London where there is an excellent one year post graduate course in surveying”. My heart sank – I was just about to graduate and I had had enough of formal education. But now I knew exactly what I needed to do. So, the following morning I presented myself at the Department of Surveying and Photogrammetry at UCL in Gower Street and asked about applying for the following year’s course. They were very friendly and the despondency of the previous day abated. I was introduced to two members of staff – Arthur Allan, a jovial Scot in charge of the course and Duggie Mason. I immediately recognised the latter name from Dad’s book (FIDS 1946-48 Stonington and my Dad’s tent mate!) and said who I was – from that moment I knew that my fate was sealed.
One problem with all this was that I hadn’t really enjoyed my engineering surveying course at Imperial under Steve. It was presented in a rather dry and humourless way that turned most of the students off. I made it clear to the other students at UCL (only 8 of us) that I was only there to learn enough to be able to go to the Antarctic, not because I had a long felt ambition to become a surveyor. But being introduced to the full world of surveying at UCL was a totally new dimension. The course was incredibly intense but within a couple of months I knew that I had found a career I wanted to pursue – in the Antarctic or wherever. As a result I worked harder during that year than I have ever worked – really enjoyed myself and instead of scraping through did reasonably well.
In due course I filled out another application form for BAS as a surveyor and waited in the hope that I would get another interview. The invitation did come – but not from the direction I was expecting. By this time I was sharing a flat with my sister Jane, a trainee nurse. Two days earlier our house – 2 separate flats – had a phone installed in the shared hallway. I had just returned from a 2 week field course and we were upstairs celebrating when the phone rang downstairs. It was late, about 1045pm. One of the girls from the lower flat came upstairs and explained that the call was for me. I was surprised – hardly anyone had our new number! I was more than a little inebriated and I suspect not altogether coherent when I answered. Then, to my surprise I heard “Hello, my name is Dr Charles Swithinbank, I am the head of Earth Sciences at the British Antarctic Survey and I am currently looking to employ some glaciologists – I notice that you have applied to BAS as a Surveyor”. I still remember my response, definitely rather jumbled “What’s a glacierolologist”. I did recognise the name as a one time friend of Dad’s through the Antarctic connection and he indeed confirmed that he had got my phone number by calling my parents. “What I am actually looking for in my search is someone who is a trained surveyor – would you be interested?” My ears pricked up. This all occurred on the Wednesday before Easter 1973. “I am interviewing in London next Tuesday – would you be able to come for an interview”. With the confidence of inebriation I responded – “Sorry, I can’t, I am off for a climbing holiday in the Lake District on Saturday for a week.” I remember thinking “well, that’s blown it…..”. But Charles wasn’t phased – “… well, I don’t want to interfere with that, would you be able to come up to meet me and have an interview at SPRI in Cambridge the following Monday?” I leapt at the chance and after my Lakeland break duly presented myself at SPRI at the appointed time. During that intervening week I had given the matter some thought and perhaps I wasn’t quite as ingnorant about “glacierolology as I had made out – I had worked with glaciologists in Canada 4 years previously.
Charles and I had an interesting talk then to my surprise he offered me a job on the spot, subject to medical of course. He made it very clear that I would be spending time at Fossil Bluff, using mechanical transport, rather than at Stonington, using dogs, but the job itself sounded really interesting. And let’s face it, all I was really after was the chance to spend time in the Antarctic, not worry about the specifics about where and how.
So, on July 2nd 1973 I started work at SPRI in Cambridge with BAS and a whole new world opened up to me. Charles was a very enlightened boss – he realised that most of his young employees were in it for the adventure rather than the research opportunities. We were given a reading list of useful and relevant papers to peruse – and also given the run of the SPRI library – by that stage for me it was like giving an alcoholic an unlimited supply of free booze. And so started my unexpected polar career. I duly completed my 2 winters at Fossil Bluff, both memorable for different reasons, got thoroughly engrossed with surveying things that move, did 2 further summer seasons with BAS, by now based in Cambridge, and to my amazement, 47 years later am still involved with Antarctic stuff, using my experience and stories to educate and entertain ship borne passengers on and around the Antarctic Peninsula.
This is the story of the start of an unexpected (but perhaps in hindsight, not unlikely) career. Lots of other career paths along the route. Youth worker, Secondary school teacher, 25 years helping run a UK surveying business – and the most satisfying of all, a happy marriage to a long suffering Wendy-Jane and bringing up 3 wonderful kids, Finn Tom and Ruth. Wendy-Jane had put up with me going off to the Antarctic from time to time – and not infrequently getting stuck there – and was a little reluctant to take up the opportunity to come with me on my first season as a ship borne lecturer. After our 3 trips on board she did declare. “Ok, I get it, I understand now!”
And perhaps things came full circle in early January 2012 when I was in my garden in Shropshire – my mobile rang and a voice came through loud and clear. “Hi Dad, we made it – I’m at the South Pole”. My son Finn, working for Antarctic Logistics and Expeditions had been given the task of driving a vehicle 800 miles to the pole to act as a taxi for VIPs taking part in the imminent Scott/Amundsen centenary celebrations. Needless to say, I was immensely proud but totally broke down in emotion when I received that call. Sadly, Dad had passed away the previous year so was never able to share my pride.