We dwelt on the fringe of an unspanned continent, where the chill breath of a vast, polar wilderness, quickening to the rushing might of eternal blizzards, surged to the northern seas. We had discovered an accursed country. We had found the Home of the Blizzard.
—Douglas Mawson
The next morning we rose early, enjoyed a hearty breakfast, and rushed out to the airfield so that we could be there at 7:00 A.M. sharp as we were expecting the flight to get under way at about 8:00 A.M. However, due to some last minute hold-ups caused by minor repairs we had to do to the hydraulic system on our aircraft, we spent the next few hours just waiting around in a small, featureless room. At about noon one of the Scott Base staff came over with some lunch for us; then after eating it was back to waiting again. Finally, at about 1:30 P.M. we were told that the plane was repaired and ready for our mission, which was to be led by Flight Lieutenant Scott Allen.
The next job was to load up the Herc with all our gear. We had decided to tie it all down firmly on the sledges and load the skidoos and sledges straight into the belly of the plane, rather than follow the conventional way of loading everything separately then having to pack up the sledges when we arrived on the Darwin Glacier. Driving the skidoos up the narrow plank into the backside of the plane was a little tricky, but we eventually managed to get all of our gear on the plane without any hassles.
The flight over the Transantarctic Mountains took about an hour. Large crevasse fields were clearly marked by parallel rows of icy lines across the really wide glaciers. Mountains poked upwards out of the
snow-covered plateau, gently draped in snow. Sunlight glistened off the exposed expanses of blue ice on the glaciers. Although the roar of the Herc engines precluded much talking in the hold, in the cockpit Margaret and Brian had radio headsets on so they could discuss the landing spots with the pilots. As we circled around the area we could see that the route we had chosen up the McCleary Glacier was going to be a challenge for there were several large crevasse fields along the way. We would have to stick closely to our planned route, which looked safe enough visually, but one could really never be sure until you were there on the ground. Crevasses have a bad habit of being lightly snowed over. This occurs when winds blow fresh snow across the crevasse and it freezes to form a bridge of thin ice. Later, after light snow falls blanket the whole region, the crevasse becomes virtually invisible.
At around 3:00 P.M. the big plane buzzed low over the landing spot and bounced upon the snow-covered surface of the Darwin Glacier field with its huge skids a couple of times to check that the area was free of hidden crevasses. It then turned around and came in to land. Landing on the ice is always a little dangerous as no one can exactly predict or know what the conditions will be like. If a large crevasse had been covered over by snow, the plane could suddenly crash down into it and the plane would cartwheel over on the hard ice. This has actually happened before in northern Victoria Land, so it is not an implausible scenario. Naturally we were all a little apprehensive as we touched the ice and slid along the wild runway. As the plane pulled up we sprang into action, untying the cargo and getting ready to unload all the gear out of the backside of the Herc.
As the tailgate opened we were instantly assaulted by both the noise of the roaring engines and the blast of freezing air they created. Within about fifteen minutes we had unloaded the sledges with all our gear. These just slid right out down the ramp onto the ice along with the skidoos. Our next job was to erect the radio aerial and test the radio communications. Once this was done, the plane revved up its engines and headed off. At about 4:00 P.M. we watched the black speck float into the distance, high above the lofty mountain peaks, heading towards McMurdo. I knew then that we would not have recourse to anyone other than ourselves for some time ahead. We had to get used to
the idea that no matter what happened in the course of the next month or two, our radio was probably going to be our only contact with the outside world.
Finally, I thought, we're here. Inland Antarctica, at 80° south, on the open icy flats of the Darwin Glacier, named in honor of one of my great heroes, Mr. Evolution himself, Charles Darwin. I had wondered why someone would name a glacier down here after Darwin, whose major work on evolution and natural selection was founded primarily on the observations he made in tropical rainforests and isolated Pacific islands. Then I discovered through my reading that on Scott 's first expedition they had taken only one book on their sledge journey towards the South Pole and one which they read every night: Darwin's On the Origin of Species. Hence the connection.
It was a sunny, clear afternoon, and the sky was a rich blue hung with a few puffy white cumulus clouds. We spent the rest of the day setting up a camp, getting acclimatized, playing around with our gear and just getting comfortable with our set-up. Stunning views of the mountain ranges surrounded us, some appearing as almost transcendental peaks extending into the far distance, others like shrouded biblical towers in a surrealist painting.
The peaks to the furthest south that we could see were the Churchill Mountains, almost two hundred kilometers away from our camp. We could only see the snowy tops of these mountains. They were so far away from us that for the first time in my life I was able to see and comprehend the natural curvature of the Earth.
It made me feel very humble to be able to do this.