Buried in the Snow (continued)
The 16th July proved an interesting day. It started with John looking out from his tent quite unable to see any dogs. We all got out and my sledge was completely buried. The dogs that had been left on the main trace had only about an inch of their side traces showing above the snow level. Myrna, my lead bitch was completely buried and I had to dig her out – praise be still alive. She didn’t know which day of the week it was and staggered around for a bit and I carried her to the tent and de-iced her. Chinook of the Picts was completely buried and we had to probe for him and he was dug out. Twig’s team appeared to be OK as they were a bit lower down the slope than John’s or my team.
We had to dig out the main trace which was under 5ft of snow and gave up after 4 hours with only half of it clear. We put Pancho and Tula on a ‘night span’, Myrna I left loose, and in the place where we thought the sledge should be we put two of the dogs and two bitches to keep them company. All this was done in the dark with virtually no visibility, and heavy wet snow. A very sobering experience as the dogs came so near to being literally drowned with wet soft snow. Got into the tent with everything soaked and started the drying out process. We celebrated with bacon and an omelette.
We struggled for 4 days, digging out tents, equipment and sledges and measured lines and angles during the precious hours that weather would permit.
22nd of July was ‘manky’ at 09:30 so we waited until 12:00 hrs when weather improved slightly. Wind 30- 35 knots from the north. Despite rapidly failing telurometer batteries, we managed to complete the survey. By the time we got back to camp Twig had completely dug out his sledge. We had a quick brew up and then John and I started digging our sledges out, mine was about 8ft under. John got his sledge free at about 17:00 hrs but I was still digging, helped by Twig, when it got dark. Rigged up the Aldis lamp to the portab1e generator and continued digging by floodlight finally freeing my sledge at approx 18:45 hrs, it had been buried under 8 ft of soft soggy snow with the temperature hovering around freezing.
“It always amazes me how easy it was to pitch one’s camp just in the wrong place to collect a very deep snow drift. After all, the depth of snow that buried you could not have been everywhere and must have come from somewhere else! It was in the same sort of situation when some years earlier the Moomins had been ‘drowned’ on the upper reaches of the same glacier”.
(Kevin Walton – Stonington 1946 & 1947)
We spent another ten days working our way back to Base and had a remarkable meet up, 10 dog teams and 90 dogs at the head of McClary Glacier. (Is this a record?)
Back at Base, even after a long summer season, we always kept the dogs exercised, for our own good as much as theirs and I felt that I could do anything with my team. We were bringing my team back after collecting some seal carcasses and just for a laugh I drove my team straight through the ground floor of the base hut as I saw the doors wide open. The team was the Huns and the door was so narrow that I recall taking my hands off the handlebars for fear of getting them scraped as we went through the door.
Good Bye to the dogs (A copy of a letter written to my family)
Well the dreaded moment has been and gone and I have finally said good bye to my dogs and the ship is sailing from the Peninsula bound for Stanley. I did not realise that it would be as hard as it was to leave my dogs. It was a long drawn out affair as well because the Huns were operating from Adelaide this coming winter so they had to be put on the ship. I was able to run them to the very last moment to show the new drivers some of the tricks of the trade. The new chap is a good bloke, very keen – so he should be OK. Because of ice conditions it took the ship 3 days to cover the 70 miles to Adelaide and then it was working cargo for another two so my good byes were very long drawn out and very sad.
Eric Lawther – GA South Georgia 1972, Stonington 1973