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<strong>the</strong><br />

e x p lor e r s<br />

j o u r n a l<br />

EST. 1921<br />

risk<br />

fall 2009<br />

YVON CHOUINARD<br />

on craft, <strong>the</strong> environment, and fly-fishing at $100 an inch<br />

John Ge ige r<br />

on risk and <strong>the</strong> human mind<br />

Apa Sherpa, pete athans, Peter Hillary,<br />

Ken Kamler, Scott Parazynski, & Jim Williams<br />

on <strong>the</strong> risk and reward of Everest<br />

vol. 87 no.3 I $8.00 I www.<strong>explorers</strong>.org I


<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong><br />

fall 2009<br />

cover: to <strong>the</strong> summit of Everest<br />

One step at a time. Photograph by<br />

Scott Parazynski.<br />

risk<br />

risk<br />

features<br />

On Risk<br />

by John Geiger, p. 12<br />

Bob Barth<br />

on life at <strong>the</strong> bottom of <strong>the</strong> sea, by Kristin Romey, p. 15<br />

Rich Wilson<br />

bringing high seas adventure into <strong>the</strong> classroom, p. 18<br />

Not a good day to die<br />

by Stephanie Jutta Schwabe, p. 21<br />

Art Mortvedt<br />

on grizzlies, engine-outs, and what it means to<br />

live <strong>the</strong> good life in <strong>the</strong> outback, p. 24<br />

Yvon Chouinard<br />

on craft, <strong>the</strong> environment, and fly-fishing at<br />

$100 an inch, p. 30<br />

R isk a nd Re wa r d<br />

of Everest<br />

in conversation with those who know <strong>the</strong><br />

mountain best, p. 34<br />

<strong>the</strong> West Buttress of Denali. Photograph by Matt Yamamoto.<br />

specials<br />

regulars<br />

Suicidal Birds<br />

fear, destiny, and <strong>the</strong> human mind, by<br />

Christopher Ondaatje, p. 48<br />

president’s letter, p. 2<br />

editor’s note, p. 4<br />

exploration news, p. 8<br />

extreme Medicine, p. 54<br />

A Risky Road to Freedom<br />

by Alan Nichols, p. 50<br />

extreme cuisine, p. 56<br />

reviews, p. 58<br />

what were <strong>the</strong>y thinking, p. 64


<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong><br />

Fall 2009<br />

president’s letter<br />

Exploring <strong>the</strong> rewards of risk<br />

In this issue of <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> Journal we explore <strong>the</strong> topics of risk<br />

and uncertainty from <strong>the</strong> explorer’s perspective. Although <strong>the</strong><br />

world has never been a certain place, uncertainty has become<br />

a prominent mainstay of today’s environment, where we are experiencing<br />

a multitude of rapidly and constantly shifting external<br />

variables, interacting in novel ways, which have proven extremely<br />

difficult to prophesy. Uncertainty pervades almost every aspect<br />

of <strong>the</strong> way <strong>the</strong> world business, educational, and o<strong>the</strong>r realms<br />

operate today. While such a volatile environment can, at times,<br />

seem threatening, <strong>the</strong> change it brings can also present fleeting<br />

windows of enormous opportunity. To steer clear of risk also<br />

means shunning <strong>the</strong> myriad opportunities that risk engenders.<br />

How do we best position ourselves to embrace <strong>the</strong> opportunities<br />

that such unpredictable change allows<br />

Embracing risk requires an understanding and acceptance of<br />

<strong>the</strong> challenges that accompany working in an uncertain environment.<br />

In order to take advantage of opportunities as <strong>the</strong>y present<br />

<strong>the</strong>mselves, <strong>the</strong> explorer must be as prepared as possible.<br />

To successfully ride out any hazards or peril, <strong>explorers</strong> must<br />

possess a diverse array of talents, an open mindset, flexibility,<br />

and <strong>the</strong> ability to adapt to new circumstances quickly. It is <strong>the</strong><br />

outstanding leaders who demonstrate <strong>the</strong>ir ability to master risk<br />

and uncertainty almost as a matter of routine. Despite being<br />

a difficult component to master, <strong>the</strong>re are ways to adapt and<br />

prevail, turning uncertainty into an advantage. <strong>The</strong> ability to<br />

embrace risk and uncertainty and channel <strong>the</strong>m into productive<br />

actions is what leads to discovery and innovation. Although <strong>the</strong><br />

uncertainties of such endeavors might be high, <strong>the</strong> rewards are<br />

potentially even greater, and <strong>the</strong> option of not doing anything,<br />

precluding new discoveries, represents <strong>the</strong> highest risk of all.<br />

galloping across <strong>the</strong> Tibet Plateau. Photograph by<br />

Robert Roe<strong>the</strong>nmund.<br />

Lorie Karnath, President


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March 2–18, 2010 (17 days)<br />

with Mike Messick (MN ‘96)<br />

Discover <strong>the</strong> diverse wildlife and<br />

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voyages aboard <strong>the</strong> luxurious 64-<br />

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Voyage to Antarctica<br />

January 18–31, 2010 (14 days)<br />

with Kristin Larson (FN ‘02)<br />

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Austral Summer. This extraordinary voyage<br />

combines spectacular natural wonders with<br />

an unparalleled level of comfort aboard <strong>the</strong><br />

all-suite, 57-cabin Corinthian II, equipped<br />

with an ice-streng<strong>the</strong>ned hull, Zodiacs, and<br />

stabilizer fins for smoo<strong>the</strong>r sailing.<br />

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April 4–20, 2010 (17 days)<br />

with Margaret Lowman (FN ‘97)<br />

Explore <strong>the</strong> heart of Amazonia on this remarkable,<br />

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Email: ect@studytours.org Website: www.<strong>explorers</strong>.org


<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong><br />

Fall 2009<br />

editor’s note<br />

Risking it all for a better view<br />

You cannot stay on <strong>the</strong> summit forever,<br />

You have to come down again.<br />

So why bo<strong>the</strong>r in <strong>the</strong> first place<br />

Just this: what is above knows what is below,<br />

But what is below does not know what is above.<br />

One climbs, one sees. One descends.<br />

One sees no longer, but one has seen.<br />

—René Daumal<br />

Some years ago, when we were pulling toge<strong>the</strong>r an<br />

editorial tribute to <strong>the</strong> late Barry Bishop, a member of<br />

<strong>the</strong> first American expedition to summit Everest, his<br />

son Brent sent us this poem by René Daumal. For him,<br />

<strong>the</strong>se few lines summed up <strong>the</strong> “why” in why we climb,<br />

or, for that matter, engage in any endeavor that has a<br />

chance of providing us with a better, fuller perspective<br />

on <strong>the</strong> world we live in.<br />

In addressing <strong>the</strong> subject of risk this issue, we found<br />

it impossible to avoid discussing Everest, which, in<br />

recent years, has attracted its share of media attention<br />

for <strong>the</strong> deadly mishaps on <strong>the</strong> mountain—particularly<br />

in 1996 and in 2006. In discussing <strong>the</strong> risks posed<br />

by <strong>the</strong> world’s highest peak—first summited by our late<br />

Honorary President Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing<br />

Norgay in 1953—we have brought toge<strong>the</strong>r six Everest<br />

luminaries to share <strong>the</strong>ir stories and explain why, in<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir opinion, <strong>the</strong> reward outweighs <strong>the</strong> risk. <strong>The</strong>ir<br />

enlightened discussion begins on page 34.<br />

Beyond <strong>the</strong> Big E, we have looked in o<strong>the</strong>r risky<br />

endeavors—sailing <strong>the</strong> high seas, living on <strong>the</strong> ocean<br />

floor, and plying Arctic skies. We hope that in reading<br />

this issue, you will find yourself amply rewarded.<br />

Butter lamps burn in a Himalayan Monastery.<br />

Photograph by Scott Parazynski.<br />

Angela M.H. Schuster, Editor-in-Chief


letter to <strong>the</strong> editor<br />

In “A Day at <strong>the</strong> Beach” (<strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> Journal,<br />

Summer 2009), <strong>the</strong> author mentions first<br />

aid remedies for <strong>the</strong> box jellyfish of Australia<br />

and Indo-Pacific areas. He<br />

writes, “Vinegar should be<br />

applied to prevent fur<strong>the</strong>r<br />

nematocyst discharge, but<br />

pressure immobilization,<br />

administration of box jellyfish<br />

antivenin (obtained in<br />

Australia), and immediate<br />

evacuation are advised.”<br />

To my knowledge, <strong>the</strong><br />

pressure immobilization<br />

technique is no longer<br />

recommended to prevent<br />

absorption of box jellyfish<br />

venom. Some experts have<br />

questioned its efficacy and<br />

fur<strong>the</strong>r noted that large<br />

skin surfaces cannot be effectively<br />

bandaged. O<strong>the</strong>rs<br />

have noted that application of pressure might<br />

promote nematocyst discharge, which is believed<br />

to be more harmful than foregoing <strong>the</strong><br />

attempt to devascularize <strong>the</strong> area immediately<br />

below <strong>the</strong> bandage in order to <strong>the</strong>oretically<br />

prevent distribution of venom into <strong>the</strong> general<br />

circulation. Immobilizing (e.g., splinting)<br />

<strong>the</strong> stung body part would not be harmful,<br />

and might be helpful, but this is not proven.<br />

Recently, <strong>the</strong> efficacy of box jellyfish antivenin<br />

has been called into question, but <strong>the</strong>re have<br />

not yet been sufficient data and consensus<br />

from experts to provoke a change in current<br />

recommendations for its administration.<br />

<strong>The</strong> continued controversy about management<br />

of Indo-Pacific box jellyfish envenomation is<br />

highlighted and appreciated in <strong>the</strong> letter from<br />

Dr. Auerbach, a noted expert<br />

in marine envenomation.<br />

THE<br />

E X P L O R E R S<br />

JOURNAL<br />

EST. 1921<br />

destination moon<br />

SUMMER 2009<br />

BUZZ ALDRIN<br />

<br />

BILL “EART HRISE” A NDE RS<br />

<br />

P ETER DIAMANDIS<br />

<br />

VOL. 87 NO.2 I $8.00 I WWW.E X P LORE RS.ORG I<br />

While <strong>the</strong> issue about use of<br />

<strong>the</strong> pressure-immobilization<br />

technique may be evolving,<br />

as noted in <strong>the</strong> updated<br />

5th edition of Auerbach’s<br />

text, <strong>the</strong> indexed medical<br />

literature has only one report<br />

that suggests that this<br />

practice may be detrimental<br />

(Seymour J., et al., “<strong>The</strong> use<br />

of pressure immobilization<br />

bandages in <strong>the</strong> first aid<br />

management of cubozoan<br />

envenomings,” Toxicon<br />

40(10): 1503–5, 2002). In<br />

Australia, where carybdeid<br />

box jellyfish envenomation<br />

is a problem, topical application of vinegar<br />

remains <strong>the</strong> predominant first aid measure and<br />

uncertainty exists about <strong>the</strong> use of pressureimmobilization<br />

bandages (Barnett F.I., et<br />

al., Rural Remote Health 5(3): 369, 2005).<br />

O<strong>the</strong>rs also note that box jellyfish toxin is characterized<br />

but remains unidentified (Tibballs<br />

J., Toxicon 48(7): 830–59, 2006), current<br />

antivenin is not likely effective (Ramasamy S.,<br />

et al., Toxicon 41(6): 703–11, 2003), and that<br />

<strong>the</strong>re is a definitive need for uniform, evidencebased<br />

guidelines for management (Barnett F.I.,<br />

et al., Wilderness and Environmental Medicine<br />

15(2): 102–8, 2004).<br />

Paul S. Auerbach, M.D., FN’95<br />

Editor, Wilderness Medicine<br />

Author, Medicine for <strong>the</strong> Outdoors<br />

Consultant, Divers Alert Network<br />

Michael J. Manyak, M.D., FACS, MED’92,<br />

Professor of Urology, Engineering,<br />

Microbiology, and Tropical Medicine<br />

Editor, Expedition and Wilderness Medicine<br />

(2008).


<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong><br />

fall 2009<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> club<br />

President<br />

Lorie M.L. Karnath,<br />

MBA, hon. Ph.D.<br />

Board Of Directors<br />

Officers<br />

PATRONS & SPONSORS<br />

Honorary President<br />

Don Walsh, Ph.D.<br />

Honor a ry Direc tors<br />

Robert D. Ballard, Ph.D.<br />

George F. Bass, Ph.D.<br />

Eugenie Clark, Ph.D.<br />

Sylvia A. Earle, Ph.D.<br />

James M. Fowler<br />

Col. John H. Glenn Jr., USMC (Ret.)<br />

Gilbert M. Grosvenor<br />

Donald C. Johanson, Ph.D.<br />

Richard E. Leakey, D.Sc.<br />

Roland R. Puton<br />

Johan Reinhard, Ph.D.<br />

George B. Schaller, Ph.D.<br />

Don Walsh, Ph.D.<br />

CLASS OF 2010<br />

Anne L. Doubilet<br />

William S. Harte<br />

Mark S. Kassner, CPA<br />

Daniel A. Kobal, Ph.D.<br />

R. Scott Winters, Ph.D.<br />

CLASS OF 2011<br />

Capt. Norman L. Baker<br />

Jonathan M. Conrad<br />

Constance Difede<br />

Kristin Larson, Esq.<br />

Margaret D. Lowman, Ph.D.<br />

CLASS OF 2012<br />

Josh Bernstein<br />

Lt.(N) Joseph G. Frey, C.D.<br />

Gary “Doc” Hermalyn, Ed.D.<br />

Lorie M.L. Karnath, MBA, hon. Ph.D.<br />

William F. Vartorella, Ph.D., C.B.C.<br />

Vice President, Chapters<br />

Lt.(N) Joseph G. Frey, C.D.<br />

Vice President, Membership<br />

Daniel A. Kobal, Ph.D.<br />

Vice President, Operations<br />

Garrett R. Bowden<br />

Vice President, Research & Education<br />

Julianne M. Chase, Ph.D.<br />

Treasurer<br />

Mark S. Kassner, CPA<br />

Assistant Treasurer<br />

William S. Harte<br />

Secretary<br />

Robert M.T. Jutson, Jr.<br />

Assistant Secretary<br />

Kristin Larson, Esq.<br />

Patrons Of Exploration<br />

Robert H. Rose<br />

Mr. & Mrs. Donald Segur<br />

Michael W. Thoresen<br />

Corporate Partner Of Exploration<br />

Rolex Watch U.S.A., Inc.<br />

Corporate Supporter Of Exploration<br />

National Geographic Society<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong><br />

EDITORS<br />

President & publisher<br />

Lorie M. L. Karnath,<br />

MBA, hon. Ph.D.<br />

Editor-in-Chief<br />

Angela M.H. Schuster<br />

Contributing Editors<br />

Jeff Blumenfeld<br />

Jim Clash<br />

Michael J. Manyak, M.D., FACS<br />

Milbry C. Polk<br />

Kristin Romey<br />

Carl G. Schuster<br />

Nick Smith<br />

Linda Frederick Yaffe<br />

Copy Chief<br />

Valerie Saint-Rossy<br />

ART DEPARTMENT<br />

Art Director<br />

Jesse Alexander<br />

Deus ex Machina<br />

Steve Burnett<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong> © (ISSN 0014-5025) is published<br />

quarterly for $29.95 by THE EXPLORERS CLUB, 46 East 70th<br />

Street, New York, NY 10021. Periodicals postage paid at<br />

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Send address changes to <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>, 46 East<br />

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Subscriptions<br />

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single numbers, $8.00; foreign orders, add $8.00 per year.<br />

Members of THE EXPLORERS CLUB receive <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong><br />

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should be addressed to: Subscription Services, <strong>the</strong><br />

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SUBMISSIONS<br />

Manuscripts, books for review, and advertising inquiries<br />

should be sent to <strong>the</strong> Editor, <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>,<br />

46 East 70th Street, New York, NY 10021, telephone:<br />

212-628-8383, fax: 212-288-4449, e-mail: editor@<br />

<strong>explorers</strong>.org. All manuscripts are subject to review. <strong>the</strong><br />

<strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong> is not responsible for unsolicited<br />

materials. <strong>The</strong> views and opinions expressed herein<br />

do not necessarily reflect those of THE EXPLORERS CLUB or<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>.<br />

All paper used to manufacture this magazine comes from<br />

well-managed sources. <strong>The</strong> printing of this magazine is FSC<br />

certified and uses vegetable-based inks.<br />

THE EXPLORERS CLUB, <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> journaL, THE EXPLORERS<br />

CLUB TRAVELERS, WORLD CENTER FOR EXPLORATION, and <strong>The</strong><br />

<strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> Flag and Seal are registered trademarks of<br />

THE EXPLORERS CLUB, INC., in <strong>the</strong> United States and elsewhere.<br />

All rights reserved. © <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong>, 2009.<br />

50% RECYCLED PAPER<br />

MADE FROM 15%<br />

POST-CONSUMER WASTE


SAVE<br />

T H E<br />

DATE<br />

Thursday, October 15, 2009<br />

Cipriani Wall Street, New York City<br />

THE PRESIDENT, DIRECTORS AND<br />

OFFICERS OF THE EXPLORERS<br />

CLUB & ROLEX WATCH U.S.A.<br />

Request <strong>the</strong> honor of your company at <strong>the</strong> 2009<br />

Lowell Thomas Awards Dinner<br />

On <strong>the</strong> Brink of Uncertainty, Exploring Risk:<br />

A Survival Guide from <strong>the</strong> Field<br />

Photo: David Jordan www.lavajunkie.com<br />

2009 Lowell Thomas Award Recipients<br />

Bob Barth, CWO, USN (ret), FN’96<br />

Yvon Chouinard, MN’09<br />

Kenneth M. Kamler, M.D., FR’84<br />

Arthur D. Mortvedt, MN’84<br />

James M. Williams, FN’93<br />

Richard B. Wilson, MN’92<br />

Master of Ceremonies: Miles O’Brien<br />

Guest speakers include<br />

Dennis N.T. Perkins, MBA, Ph.D, author of<br />

Leading at <strong>the</strong> Edge, Leadership Lessons from Shackleton’s Antarctic Expedition<br />

Also featuring <strong>The</strong> Calder Quartet and Andrew WK<br />

performing a special composition for <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong><br />

by Christine Southworth.<br />

Should you risk not attending Avoid this and reserve early. Tickets go on sale June 1, 2009. Seating for <strong>the</strong> dinner is on a first-come, first served basis. Seating<br />

requests require advance payment. For reservations, please visit www.<strong>explorers</strong>.org or contact <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong>: 212-628-8383 or events@<strong>explorers</strong>.org


exploration news<br />

edited by Jeff Blumenfeld, www.expeditionnews.com<br />

Adventurer and aviator<br />

Bertrand Piccard recently<br />

unveiled <strong>the</strong> first prototype of<br />

<strong>the</strong> Solar Impulse aircraft HB-<br />

SIA at Dübendorf airfield just<br />

outside Zürich. A later model—<br />

<strong>the</strong> HB-SIB—will complete <strong>the</strong><br />

five-stage circumnavigation<br />

in 2012. Using nearly 12,000<br />

wing-mounted solar panels<br />

and four electric engines,<br />

power will be generated<br />

and stored in accumulators<br />

to allow <strong>the</strong> plane to fly in<br />

darkness—a breakthrough in<br />

aviation technology.<br />

<strong>The</strong> prototype aircraft that<br />

Piccard—along with fellow adventurer<br />

André Borschberg—<br />

will be night-flight testing is<br />

one of <strong>the</strong> most remarkable<br />

airplanes ever made. It has<br />

8<br />

Sol a r Impul se<br />

Unveiled<br />

Piccard’s sun-powered plane prepares for flight<br />

<strong>the</strong> wingspan of an Airbus<br />

340, but weighs less than a<br />

medium-size car (1,600 kg).<br />

According to aviation expert<br />

Dan Tye of Pilot magazine,<br />

“Nothing this big with such<br />

low weight has been built<br />

before.”<br />

<strong>The</strong> project has attracted<br />

several big name sponsors,<br />

including chemical and<br />

pharmaceutical multinational<br />

Solvay, Deutsche Bank, and<br />

watch manufacturer Omega,<br />

who provided <strong>the</strong> cockpit<br />

instrument panel, designed<br />

by Claude Nicollier, a former<br />

European Space Agency<br />

(ESA) astronaut. Omega<br />

also developed a simulation<br />

and testing system for <strong>the</strong><br />

airplane’s propulsion chain.<br />

For Piccard, <strong>the</strong> wider<br />

implications of Solar Impulse<br />

are symbolic. He sees solar<br />

technology as a force for environmental<br />

sustainability and<br />

he’s busy spreading <strong>the</strong> word.<br />

“We are convinced that a<br />

pioneering spirit and political<br />

vision can toge<strong>the</strong>r change<br />

society and put an end to fossil<br />

fuel dependency,” he says.<br />

Piccard and Borschberg have<br />

already taken models of Solar<br />

Impulse to China, India, and<br />

<strong>the</strong> UAE. Along <strong>the</strong> way, <strong>the</strong><br />

<strong>explorers</strong> have been helped<br />

by high-profile ambassadors,<br />

including Prince Albert II of<br />

Monaco, Buzz Aldrin, Yann<br />

Arthus-Bertrand, Paulo<br />

Coelho, and Al Gore. For information<br />

about Solar Impulse<br />

and to follow its progress, visit<br />

www.solarimpulse.com.<br />

—Nick Smith<br />

K a t h m a n d u F i l m<br />

Festival<br />

documenting mountain environments<br />

<strong>The</strong> seventh Kathmandu<br />

International Mountain Film<br />

Festival will be held in <strong>the</strong><br />

Himalayan city this December<br />

10–14, 2009. <strong>The</strong> festival<br />

will screen some of <strong>the</strong> most<br />

recent and exciting films<br />

about mountains, mountain<br />

environments, and mountain<br />

cultures and communities.<br />

<strong>The</strong> KIMFF seeks to foster<br />

a better understanding of<br />

human experiences as well<br />

as of <strong>the</strong> social and cultural<br />

Photograph by Nick Smith.


ealities in <strong>the</strong> highlands of<br />

<strong>the</strong> world. For information:<br />

www.kimff.org.<br />

E v e r e s t s e a s o n<br />

highlights<br />

new records on <strong>the</strong> roof of <strong>the</strong> world<br />

Hahn hits record 11<br />

Rainier Mountaineering, Inc.<br />

(RMI) announced that on May<br />

23, at 6:00 a.m. local time,<br />

Dave Hahn and a RMI team of<br />

climbers summited Everest, an<br />

eleventh summit for <strong>the</strong> mountaineer<br />

and <strong>the</strong> most ascents<br />

by any non-Sherpa climber.<br />

Joining Dave were two accomplished<br />

RMI Guides, Melissa<br />

Arnot and Seth Waterfall,<br />

and cameraman Kent Harvey.<br />

Ano<strong>the</strong>r RMI Everest team,<br />

led by Peter Whittaker and<br />

EXPLORATION NEWS<br />

which included Ed Viesturs,<br />

Gerry Moffatt, Jake Norton,<br />

and John Griber, summited on<br />

May 19. Viesturs, FN’95, <strong>the</strong><br />

only American to summit all<br />

fourteen 8,000-meter peaks—<br />

doing so without bottled oxygen—reached<br />

<strong>the</strong> summit of<br />

Everest for his seventh time.<br />

To boldly Go<br />

American Scott Parazynski,<br />

FN’07, achieved a milestone<br />

on May 20, becoming <strong>the</strong> first<br />

astronaut to scale Everest.<br />

Parazynski, a veteran of<br />

five space shuttle missions,<br />

reached <strong>the</strong> summit at 4 a.m.<br />

local time and stayed on <strong>the</strong><br />

peak for about 30 minutes.<br />

He tried to summit Everest<br />

last year, but a slipped disc<br />

in his back foiled his plans.<br />

Parazynski’s trip wasn’t<br />

driven purely by <strong>the</strong> thirst for<br />

adventure. He also was on<br />

a science mission, setting<br />

up instruments “…looking<br />

for evidence of life in <strong>the</strong><br />

extreme…<strong>the</strong> kinds of things<br />

that once existed on Mars or<br />

o<strong>the</strong>r planets.”<br />

Apa Sherpa Nails 19<br />

Apa Sherpa re-established<br />

his image as <strong>the</strong> greatest<br />

living Everest summiteer,<br />

conquering <strong>the</strong> peak for a record<br />

nineteenth time at 8 a.m.<br />

local time on May 21. This<br />

year, he led <strong>the</strong> Eco-Everest<br />

Expedition 2009 to draw attention<br />

to <strong>the</strong> perils of climate<br />

change in <strong>the</strong> Himalayas.<br />

For more on Scott Parazynski and<br />

Apa Sherpa, see our “Risk and<br />

Reward of Everest” story, page 34.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


EXPLORATION NEWS<br />

In Amundsen’s<br />

footsteps<br />

South Pole centennial planned<br />

Liv Arnesen and Ann Bancroft<br />

will celebrate <strong>the</strong> 100th anniversary<br />

of Roald Amundsen’s<br />

reaching <strong>the</strong> South Pole with<br />

an international expedition<br />

scheduled to set off in October<br />

2011. An international team<br />

of six women—one from each<br />

continent—will embark on a<br />

1,400-kilometer (870-mile)<br />

expedition from <strong>the</strong> Bay of<br />

Whales in <strong>the</strong> Ross Sea to<br />

<strong>the</strong> Geographic South Pole.<br />

<strong>The</strong> collaboration between<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> and <strong>the</strong>ir native<br />

countries will provide a platform<br />

for millions of children<br />

around <strong>the</strong> globe to follow <strong>the</strong><br />

100-day expedition and learn<br />

that <strong>the</strong>y have a voice in <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

community and in <strong>the</strong> world<br />

to create positive change.<br />

Arnesen and Bancroft believe<br />

Antarctica, a continent<br />

of peace, cooperation, and<br />

science—owned by no one<br />

government—is <strong>the</strong> perfect<br />

place to stage such an expedition<br />

focused on making <strong>the</strong><br />

world a better place through<br />

collaboration and peaceful<br />

cooperation.<br />

<strong>The</strong> team will depart from<br />

Christchurch, New Zealand,<br />

in October, reach <strong>the</strong> South<br />

Pole by January 2012, and<br />

be flown to <strong>the</strong> coast. <strong>The</strong>y<br />

will <strong>the</strong>n travel back to New<br />

Zealand by air. For more information:<br />

Liv Arnesen, +47 901-<br />

37-030, liv@livarnesen.com;<br />

Ann Bancroft, 612-618-5533,<br />

ann@yourexpedition.com.<br />

In plane sight<br />

Fossett searchers seek lost aircraft<br />

Members of <strong>the</strong> Steve Fossett<br />

search team, Lew Toulmin,<br />

MN’04, and Robert Hyman,<br />

LF’93, have once again joined<br />

forces, this time as members<br />

of <strong>the</strong> private Missing Aircraft<br />

Search Team (MAST). <strong>The</strong> organization<br />

recently helped find<br />

Cessna 182 number N2700Q,<br />

missing since September<br />

2006. <strong>The</strong> Cessna, carrying<br />

pilot Bill Westover and passenger<br />

Marcy Randolph, took<br />

off from Deer Valley Airport in<br />

North Phoenix on September<br />

24, 2006, and headed north.<br />

It disappeared off radar nine<br />

nautical miles southwest of<br />

Sedona. Although a threeweek<br />

search by <strong>the</strong> Civil Air<br />

Patrol and o<strong>the</strong>rs came up<br />

empty, efforts by MAST and<br />

<strong>the</strong> family paid off. “We developed<br />

16 scenarios for <strong>the</strong><br />

possible plane crash, refined<br />

<strong>the</strong>m, and came up with three<br />

top candidate areas for <strong>the</strong><br />

location of <strong>the</strong> plane,” says<br />

Toulmin, an expert in emergency<br />

management. “<strong>The</strong><br />

plane was actually found in<br />

our highest probability area.”<br />

MAST members include<br />

experts in search <strong>the</strong>ory,<br />

search and rescue, aviation,<br />

aviation archaeology, radar<br />

analysis, emergency management,<br />

law enforcement, communications,<br />

mountaineering,<br />

expedition management, and<br />

wilderness survival.<br />

“As far as we know,” says<br />

Toulmin, “<strong>the</strong>re is no o<strong>the</strong>r<br />

group active in this area, trying<br />

to analyze cold cases of<br />

light aircraft disappearing,<br />

applying new technologies<br />

and methods, and <strong>the</strong>n capable<br />

of launching searches<br />

in high probability areas. We<br />

were motivated to do this in<br />

<strong>the</strong> Steve Fossett case, which<br />

is where we honed our skills.”<br />

For information: roberthy<br />

man@verizon.net.<br />

image courtesy Liv Arnesen and Ann Bancroft.<br />

10


SPECIAL REPORT<br />

Antarctica Update<br />

a treaty at 50 and o<strong>the</strong>r news<br />

by Kristin Larson, esq., FN’02<br />

This year marks an important<br />

milestone for <strong>the</strong> continent<br />

of Antarctica—<strong>the</strong> fiftieth anniversary<br />

of <strong>the</strong> Antarctic<br />

Treaty. Considering that at its<br />

conception, this treaty was<br />

viewed as both novel and not<br />

likely to survive, it has proven<br />

remarkably resilient, and is<br />

now revered as an exemplary<br />

international accord. This last<br />

point was emphasized by Secretary<br />

of State Hillary Clinton<br />

during her remarks at <strong>the</strong> recent<br />

Antarctic Treaty Consultative<br />

Meeting (ATCM) held in<br />

Washington, DC, stating that<br />

<strong>the</strong> treaty “is a blueprint for<br />

<strong>the</strong> kind of international cooperation<br />

that will be needed<br />

more and more to address <strong>the</strong><br />

challenges of <strong>the</strong> twenty-first<br />

century, and is an example of<br />

smart power at its best.”<br />

For <strong>the</strong> past five decades,<br />

<strong>the</strong> treaty has provided <strong>the</strong><br />

framework for human engagement<br />

on this remote icy continent,<br />

where science is <strong>the</strong> lingua<br />

franca and field research<br />

<strong>the</strong> basis for rapprochement.<br />

As <strong>the</strong> importance of <strong>the</strong> Polar<br />

Regions has grown, particularly<br />

as huge outdoor laboratories<br />

for understanding<br />

“whole Earth systems,” so has<br />

<strong>the</strong> complexity of <strong>the</strong> treaty.<br />

<strong>The</strong> number of treaty parties<br />

has grown from <strong>the</strong> original 12<br />

signatories to 47 nations, representing<br />

nearly 90 percent of<br />

all humankind.<br />

Clinton also addressed <strong>the</strong><br />

first joint meeting between<br />

<strong>the</strong> ATCM and its polar opposite,<br />

<strong>the</strong> Arctic Council, again<br />

characterizing <strong>the</strong> Antarctic<br />

Treaty as a “product of farsighted,<br />

visionary leaders…<br />

and a living example of how<br />

we can form a vital partnership.”<br />

Some commentators,<br />

less circumspect than Clinton,<br />

have expressed hope<br />

that <strong>the</strong> Antarctic Treaty will<br />

help inform <strong>the</strong> more pointed<br />

interactions now occurring in<br />

<strong>the</strong> increasingly accessible<br />

and politically strategic Far<br />

North.<br />

In recognition of <strong>the</strong> Antarctic<br />

Treaty anniversary, <strong>the</strong><br />

Smithsonian is hosting an<br />

“Antarctic Treaty Summit” in<br />

Washington, DC, November<br />

30–December 3, 2009, which<br />

will provide a unique international,<br />

interdisciplinary forum<br />

for scientists, legislators, lawyers,<br />

historians, students, and<br />

members of civil society to<br />

interact. For more information,<br />

see www.atsummit50.aq.<br />

<strong>The</strong> first “zero emissions”<br />

research station in Antarctica<br />

was inaugurated in February,<br />

putting Belgium back on<br />

<strong>the</strong> Antarctic map after an<br />

absence of 50 years. <strong>The</strong>ir<br />

new base, Princess Elizabeth<br />

Station, located in East Antarctica<br />

not far from <strong>the</strong> Droning<br />

Maud Land coastline,<br />

will generate its power from<br />

<strong>the</strong> 150-mile-per-hour winds<br />

experienced at this location<br />

and <strong>the</strong> 24 hours of sunlight<br />

during <strong>the</strong> austral summer<br />

months.<br />

Unfortunately, we recently<br />

lost two true Antarctic heroines.<br />

Edith “Jackie” Ronne,<br />

FN’91, was one of <strong>the</strong> two<br />

women to first winter-over in<br />

Antarctica during <strong>the</strong> Ronne<br />

Antarctic Research Expedition<br />

of 1946–48. Known as<br />

<strong>the</strong> “First Lady of Antarctica,”<br />

Jackie spent much of <strong>the</strong> past<br />

40 years educating <strong>the</strong> public<br />

about Antarctica, and made<br />

more than 15 trips south of<br />

70°. She was 89.<br />

Jerri Nielsen died a decade<br />

after her daring rescue<br />

from South Pole Station after<br />

diagnosing herself with breast<br />

cancer. She was able to carry<br />

out her duties as <strong>the</strong> winterover<br />

physician at this remotest<br />

spot on Earth with <strong>the</strong> assistance<br />

of airdropped chemo<strong>the</strong>rapy<br />

medications and <strong>the</strong><br />

intrepid non-medical wintering<br />

crew, who practiced for<br />

her biopsy using needles in a<br />

raw chicken.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


on<br />

Risk<br />

by John Geiger<br />

Many people are cautious, some to <strong>the</strong> point of<br />

cowardice, and, in <strong>the</strong> words of <strong>the</strong> actor Victor<br />

Mature, “wouldn’t walk up a wet step.” Caution,<br />

within reason, is only natural. As Kenneth Kamler<br />

wrote in Surviving <strong>the</strong> Extremes, “No animal in its<br />

right mind ever intentionally puts itself in danger by<br />

going somewhere it doesn’t belong.” Yet, as Kamler<br />

notes, human beings do go where <strong>the</strong>y don’t belong,<br />

for example, into <strong>the</strong> 8,000-meter (26,246)<br />

plus death zone of Mt. Everest. He suggests that<br />

human “emotional and spiritual imperatives” sometimes<br />

override <strong>the</strong> survival instinct. But in a recent<br />

article in <strong>the</strong> <strong>journal</strong> Neuron, British researchers<br />

also identified a neurological basis for people going<br />

where <strong>the</strong>y don’t belong. Human beings in <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

right mind do put <strong>the</strong>mselves in danger intentionally.<br />

Our brains, it turns out, reward risk.<br />

In an experiment carried out at <strong>the</strong> Wellcome<br />

Trust Centre for Neuroimaging at University<br />

College London, scientists found evidence that<br />

a primitive part of <strong>the</strong> brain has a role in making<br />

people adventurous, and is activated when people<br />

choose unfamiliar options, despite <strong>the</strong> inherent<br />

risks of <strong>the</strong> unknown. This suggests an evolutionary<br />

advantage for those who explore. Measuring<br />

blood flow in <strong>the</strong> brain, <strong>the</strong> researchers found that<br />

<strong>the</strong> ventral striatum, which is involved in processing<br />

rewards through <strong>the</strong> release of neurotransmitters<br />

like dopamine, is more active when subjects<br />

shunned <strong>the</strong> safer options to experience <strong>the</strong>


unusual. This is called <strong>the</strong> “novelty bonus.” Risk, it<br />

seems, is part of what it is to be human.<br />

That is not <strong>the</strong> only explanation for risk: <strong>The</strong> urge<br />

to explore is also <strong>the</strong> product of prosperous societies,<br />

like our own. In his groundbreaking study,<br />

<strong>The</strong> Human Brain in Space Time, about <strong>the</strong> psychology<br />

of space travel, <strong>the</strong> neurologist W. Grey<br />

Walter refuted <strong>the</strong> accepted historical wisdom<br />

that exploration—with all its inherent risks—was a<br />

response to economic and military necessity. To<br />

<strong>the</strong> contrary, he pointed out that, during great eras<br />

of exploration, expedition-sponsoring countries<br />

were often “hospitable, prosperous, and plagued<br />

only by familiar woes.”<br />

During <strong>the</strong> Edwardian era, Britain was more<br />

prosperous that at any o<strong>the</strong>r time in its history,<br />

and it gave rise to discovery, including <strong>the</strong> first<br />

South Pole explorations of Robert Falcon Scott<br />

and Sir Ernest Shackleton. <strong>The</strong> 1950s was one<br />

of <strong>the</strong> most prosperous eras in American history.<br />

In <strong>the</strong> United States, unprecedented numbers of<br />

families reached middle class status. It is also <strong>the</strong><br />

decade that gave birth to space exploration, and<br />

saw <strong>the</strong> British conquest of Mt. Everest.<br />

In developed countries, <strong>the</strong> subsequent six decades<br />

have been highly prosperous, <strong>the</strong> societies<br />

stable. Home has been a good place to be and, one<br />

would think, to stay. Yet those same comfortable,<br />

seemingly contented populations have produced<br />

large and growing numbers of people who have<br />

placed <strong>the</strong>mselves at great individual risk, engaging<br />

in exploration, extreme sports, and adventure travel.<br />

Voluntary risk has never been more pervasive.<br />

Two billionaires, tied at #261 on Forbes’s 2009<br />

list of <strong>the</strong> world’s wealthiest people, with fortunes<br />

of $2.5 billion each, embody this point. Virgin<br />

Companies founder Richard Branson and Cirque<br />

du Soleil founder Guy Laliberté can afford lives of<br />

great luxury and comfort, yet Branson has repeatedly<br />

risked his life and come close to dying in attempts<br />

to set distance records in hot air balloons.<br />

Laliberté, meanwhile, is scheduled to blast off on<br />

September 30 aboard a Soyuz spacecraft, becoming<br />

<strong>the</strong> seventh civilian to fly alongside astronauts<br />

and cosmonauts on <strong>the</strong> Russian spaceships.<br />

Risk-taking, it seems, is both part of our neurological<br />

makeup and an integral part of contemporary<br />

society. As Walter argued, “<strong>The</strong> urge to explore<br />

is a part of our nervous equipment…. <strong>The</strong> human<br />

species is unstable in stable environments.”<br />

<strong>The</strong>re certainly are emotional and spiritual<br />

14<br />

imperatives, as Kamler noted. Exploration is a way<br />

for people to gain insight not just into <strong>the</strong> world,<br />

but to better understand <strong>the</strong>mselves. Without risk<br />

<strong>the</strong>re is no gain, no gain in scientific knowledge,<br />

no gain ei<strong>the</strong>r in understanding one’s self.<br />

One of <strong>the</strong> most intriguing manifestations of<br />

risk is a subject I have been studying for six years.<br />

People at <strong>the</strong> very edge of death, often adventurers<br />

or <strong>explorers</strong>, have reported experiencing a<br />

sense of an incorporeal being who is beside <strong>the</strong>m<br />

and who encourages <strong>the</strong>m to make one final effort<br />

to survive. This phenomenon is known as <strong>the</strong><br />

“Third Man” factor, and it has been experienced<br />

by scores of people, from Shackleton and aviator<br />

Charles Lindbergh to polar explorer Ann Bancroft,<br />

climber Peter Hillary, diver Steffi Schwabe, and<br />

astronaut Jerry Linenger; in scores of places too,<br />

from Cape Horn to Carstensz Pyramid, from <strong>the</strong><br />

Indian Ocean to Earth’s orbit. Kamler, both a skilled<br />

medical specialist and climber, has had many remarkable<br />

adventures—he has devoted himself to<br />

<strong>the</strong> study of endurance, how our bodies respond<br />

to extremes—so it is not surprising that <strong>the</strong> “Third<br />

Man” phenomenon was also among <strong>the</strong>m.<br />

While desperately trying to keep a dying Sherpa<br />

alive through a long night high on <strong>the</strong> slopes of<br />

Everest, Kamler “gradually became aware of a third<br />

person in our freezing tent.” This unseen being guided<br />

Kamler through his patient’s treatment. “When<br />

morning came, I realized my patient would live, and<br />

that my mentor was gone.” It was, for Kamler, an<br />

experience filled with “wonder and mysticism,” and<br />

one that he would never have encountered by staying<br />

at his thriving medical practice in New York.<br />

Risk is innate to human beings, and so much<br />

a part of us that our brains dispense “novelty bonuses”<br />

to encourage us to take <strong>the</strong> more adventurous<br />

path. Risk is also powerfully influenced by <strong>the</strong><br />

great wealth and comfort enjoyed by those of us<br />

lucky enough to live in <strong>the</strong> West. We seek extreme<br />

and unusual environments to gain insight into <strong>the</strong><br />

nature of our planet, but also as a testing ground<br />

of <strong>the</strong> human spirit.<br />

biography<br />

John Geiger’s book, <strong>The</strong> Third Man Factor: Surviving<br />

<strong>the</strong> Impossible, was published on September 1, 2009, by<br />

Weinstein Books. He is Senior Fellow at Massey College<br />

and Fellow of <strong>the</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong>. For more information,<br />

visit www.thirdmanfactor.com.<br />

Opening spread: Whiteout on Mt. Rainier. Photograph by Steve Romeo.


RISK I<br />

Bob Barth<br />

on life at <strong>the</strong> bottom of <strong>the</strong> sea<br />

SeaLab Diver Bernie Campoli, as he appeared on <strong>the</strong> cover of <strong>the</strong> Saturday Evening Post, September 5, 1964. Photograph by Bob Barth<br />

Bob Barth has spent more time away from terra<br />

firma than most astronauts—and he’s never even<br />

left Earth. A pioneer in saturation diving, Barth has<br />

logged countless hours underwater as <strong>the</strong> world’s<br />

premier aquanaut, and is <strong>the</strong> only diver to have<br />

participated in <strong>the</strong> U.S. Navy’s groundbreaking<br />

Genesis (1957–1962), SeaLab I (1964), SeaLab<br />

II (1965), and SeaLab III (1969) programs.<br />

<strong>The</strong> son of an U.S. Army career officer, Barth<br />

was born in Manilla in 1930, joined <strong>the</strong> Navy at<br />

17, and, by 1960, he had already been a military<br />

diver for 11 years when he was stationed at <strong>the</strong><br />

Submarine Escape Training Tank at <strong>the</strong> Submarine<br />

School in Groton, CT, where he met Navy medical<br />

by Kristin Romey<br />

corps captain George Bond. At <strong>the</strong> time, <strong>the</strong> Navy<br />

was interested in developing techniques to extend<br />

<strong>the</strong> depth and duration of human underwater exploration<br />

through a technique known as saturation<br />

diving, and had put Bond in charge of a program<br />

known as Genesis.<br />

Saturation diving occurs when <strong>the</strong> partial pressure<br />

of dissolved inert gases in a human body<br />

equal <strong>the</strong> partial pressure of those in <strong>the</strong> ambient<br />

atmosphere—i.e., when <strong>the</strong> tissues of a diver’s<br />

body have absorbed all of <strong>the</strong> compressed gas<br />

(such as nitrogen or helium) <strong>the</strong>y can and become,<br />

literally, saturated. This generally occurs after diving<br />

for a very long duration or at great depth.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


While <strong>the</strong> concept of saturation diving was recognized<br />

as early as <strong>the</strong> beginning of <strong>the</strong> twentieth<br />

century, technical limitations at <strong>the</strong> time restricted<br />

divers to depths so shallow 50–100 feet (~15–30<br />

meters) that <strong>the</strong> applications of saturation diving<br />

were irrelevant. Decades later, however, as humankind<br />

began to push progressively deeper into<br />

<strong>the</strong> world’s oceans, conventional diving methods<br />

meant that a dive to 300 feet (~100 meters) or<br />

more could allow for only minutes of bottom time<br />

and subsequent hours of decompression—<strong>the</strong><br />

time required for <strong>the</strong> safe removal of <strong>the</strong> inert<br />

gas, such as nitrogen, inhaled under pressure.<br />

Extreme depth also led to <strong>the</strong> danger of nitrogen<br />

narcosis due to high levels of dissolved nitrogen in<br />

<strong>the</strong> blood, and even oxygen toxicity.<br />

What Bond realized was that a saturated diver<br />

could stay underwater for days or even months and<br />

<strong>the</strong> amount of time required for decompression<br />

wouldn’t change. <strong>The</strong> challenge, however, was<br />

how to avoid nitrogen narcosis and oxygen toxicity.<br />

Bond received permission from <strong>the</strong> Navy to study<br />

<strong>the</strong> effects of mixed-gas blends on mammals at<br />

<strong>the</strong> equivalent of 200fsw (feet of seawater). After<br />

evaluating <strong>the</strong> effects of helium-nitrogen-oxygen<br />

breathing mixes on goats and monkeys, he moved<br />

on to his human subjects, including Barth. “In a<br />

situation where you are an experimental diving<br />

subject in a new and unproven concept, you know<br />

<strong>the</strong> dangers (if <strong>the</strong>re are any) and are prepared for<br />

<strong>the</strong>m when <strong>the</strong>y occur—you knew that something<br />

new and different was just around <strong>the</strong> corner,<br />

and were expecting it,” says Barth, who remains<br />

unfazed by <strong>the</strong> days and weeks of pressurized<br />

experimental trials.<br />

With <strong>the</strong> successful completion of <strong>the</strong> program,<br />

<strong>the</strong> Navy, under Bond’s direction, began to<br />

study <strong>the</strong> practical applications of Genesis with<br />

SeaLab. Along with saturation diving, <strong>the</strong> SeaLab<br />

experimental habitat programs explored <strong>the</strong> physiological<br />

feasibility of living in isolated conditions<br />

underwater for long periods of time.<br />

In early 1964, <strong>the</strong> Navy commenced with <strong>the</strong><br />

building of SeaLab I in Panama City, FL, and on<br />

July 20th, <strong>the</strong> fire-engine-red habitat—constructed<br />

from two large floats—was lowered to a depth of<br />

193 feet (60 meters) off <strong>the</strong> Bermuda coast. Axles<br />

from railroad cars were among <strong>the</strong> thousands of<br />

pounds of weights that were placed in large ballast<br />

bins to anchor <strong>the</strong> structure once it was in place.<br />

Barth and his three colleagues—LCDR Robert<br />

Thompson, MC; GM1(DV) Lester Anderson,<br />

and HMC(DV) Sanders Manning—enjoyed a<br />

successful 11-day stay, performing physiological<br />

experiments while breathing a helium and oxygen<br />

mixture in an environment about equal to <strong>the</strong><br />

pressure of seven of Earth’s atmospheres. An approaching<br />

storm cut <strong>the</strong> planned 21-day project<br />

short; none<strong>the</strong>less, SeaLab 1 proved that man<br />

could survive—and thrive—in an open-sea saturation<br />

diving environment.<br />

In 1965, Barth was one of 28 men divided into<br />

three teams who would spend ano<strong>the</strong>r 15 days<br />

in <strong>the</strong> more ambitious SeaLab II program, in 205<br />

feet of water off <strong>the</strong> California coast. Bond’s team<br />

again looked at <strong>the</strong> issues of decompression<br />

sickness, inert gas narcosis, and oxygen toxicity,<br />

as well as body heat loss and carbon dioxide<br />

retention. “<strong>The</strong> gas mixtures in Genesis were<br />

somewhat <strong>the</strong> same mixtures that deep-sea divers<br />

had been using for years,” Barth recalls, “but what<br />

we needed to know was whe<strong>the</strong>r humans could<br />

breath that mixture at deeper depths and for much<br />

longer periods. Genesis and SeaLab provided<br />

that and a few hundred o<strong>the</strong>r answers—and <strong>the</strong><br />

food was lousy.”<br />

By <strong>the</strong> time SeaLab III was readied in 1969,<br />

Barth was designated team leader for <strong>the</strong> program.<br />

However, a leak occurred in <strong>the</strong> habitat, located in<br />

610 feet (185 meters) of water off California’s San<br />

Clemente Island, just before it was slated to be<br />

occupied. A four-man team, including Barth and<br />

diver Berry Cannon, descended in a diving bell<br />

to fix <strong>the</strong> leak; Cannon’s dive gear malfunctioned,<br />

which cost him his life.<br />

<strong>The</strong> Navy subsequently cancelled <strong>the</strong> SeaLab<br />

program, yet Barth has no regrets for his time<br />

spent participating in <strong>the</strong> ultimately ambitious, yet<br />

incredibly dangerous, line of undersea research.<br />

“When you enter into this kind of lifestyle, you<br />

know that someone, someday, somewhere, may<br />

not go home that night,” says Barth. “But I think<br />

that’s applicable to a lot of people who take on<br />

risks— it’s certainly not something that is seen only<br />

in <strong>the</strong> diving community.”<br />

“I have a good friend who once sat on <strong>the</strong><br />

pointed end of a big rocket and hung on when<br />

<strong>the</strong>y pushed <strong>the</strong> “GO” button. His organization is<br />

well known for taking chances and <strong>the</strong>y kept it up<br />

even with some terrible losses of life—think any of<br />

<strong>the</strong>m wanted to quit If we had a perfect world,”<br />

he adds, “it would soon grow stagnant, and no<br />

16


SeaLab III being towed out to sea off <strong>the</strong> coast of California, 1969. Image courtesy Bob Barth.<br />

one would seek new and rewarding goals.”<br />

Although Barth retired from active Navy duty<br />

in May 1970, <strong>the</strong> sea still beckoned. He went<br />

on to cofound <strong>the</strong> commercial dive company<br />

Hydrospace International before rejoining <strong>the</strong><br />

Navy Experimental Diving Unit in 1985, as a dive<br />

accident investigator and public affairs officer.<br />

SeaLab program and its aquanauts have been<br />

largely overshadowed by NASA’s Apollo program<br />

of <strong>the</strong> same decade, but its contributions, not only<br />

to <strong>the</strong> world of offshore oil and gas drilling, but<br />

also to underwater scientific research and submarine<br />

rescue, have been immeasurable.<br />

<strong>The</strong> first commercial saturation dive was conducted<br />

in 1965, and <strong>the</strong> extreme diving technique<br />

opened up a new world to <strong>the</strong> commercial oil and<br />

gas industry, allowing divers to construct rigs and<br />

infrastructure at depths never before accessible.<br />

Today, saturation divers in <strong>the</strong> North Sea regularly<br />

dive to depths of 750 feet (~230 meters) or more<br />

and remain underwater for months at a time.<br />

While remotely operated vehicles (ROVs) and<br />

autonomous underwater vehicles (AUVs) are now<br />

replacing saturation divers for many tasks, <strong>the</strong>re<br />

are still many underwater jobs that require human<br />

dexterity, including pipeline repair and jobs requiring<br />

precise measurement.<br />

SeaLab’s legacy also lives on in <strong>the</strong> NOAA’s<br />

Aquarius habitat, <strong>the</strong> world’s only operating underwater<br />

research station, where scientists spend<br />

weeks at a time living and working at a depth of 20<br />

meters off <strong>the</strong> Florida Keys.<br />

Today Barth, <strong>the</strong> author of Sea Dwellers: <strong>The</strong><br />

Humor, Drama and Tragedy of <strong>the</strong> U.S. Navy<br />

SeaLab Programs (Doyle Publishing, 2000), still<br />

lives in <strong>the</strong> Panama City area.<br />

As for all of <strong>the</strong> dives Barth has made in his<br />

long, illustrious career, it was his first descent on<br />

SeaLab I that brings <strong>the</strong> biggest smile to his face. “I<br />

can tell you that those 11 days in that habitat were<br />

probably <strong>the</strong> best diving days I ever made,” recalls<br />

Barth. “Think about it, you travel down to 200 feet<br />

and not have to worry about bottom time, what you<br />

find sitting <strong>the</strong>re is this monster house, (not something<br />

that we see very often). Bright lights, fresh<br />

water, warm showers, bunks, and plenty to eat, and<br />

nobody with a damn stopwatch.”<br />

biography<br />

Kristin Romey, FR’05, is an underwater archaeologist and<br />

former executive editor of Archaeology magazine. She<br />

currently participates with <strong>the</strong> Universidad Autónoma de<br />

Yucatán’s Cenote Cult Project.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


RISK II<br />

Rich Wilson<br />

bringing high seas adventure<br />

into <strong>the</strong> classroom<br />

It has been called <strong>the</strong> most dangerous race in <strong>the</strong><br />

world. It is <strong>the</strong> Vendée Globe, a nonstop, single-handed,<br />

round-<strong>the</strong>-world voyage in which only <strong>the</strong> most seasoned<br />

sailors pilot <strong>the</strong>ir craft about <strong>the</strong> sou<strong>the</strong>rn tips<br />

of Africa, <strong>the</strong> Americas, and Australia, all <strong>the</strong> while<br />

skirting <strong>the</strong> ice-choked waters of Antarctica. For most,<br />

simply completing <strong>the</strong> race is reward in itself. For Rich<br />

Wilson, <strong>the</strong> only American contender in a field of thirty<br />

in <strong>the</strong> 2008/09 race, completing <strong>the</strong> voyage on March 10<br />

after 121 days at sea had a higher purpose—to bring <strong>the</strong><br />

spirit of adventure into <strong>the</strong> classroom. <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong><br />

<strong>journal</strong> recently spoke with Wilson about <strong>the</strong> legendary<br />

competition and his thoughts on inspiring <strong>the</strong> next<br />

generation.<br />

EJ: What led you to pursue a career in competitive<br />

sailing<br />

RW: Although I’ve sailed a lot, I don’t consider<br />

myself a professional sailor. I consider myself<br />

a professional educator. I grew up sailing and<br />

racing small boats, and worked my way up to<br />

18<br />

doing ocean races. In 1980, we won <strong>the</strong> Bermuda<br />

Race, which is <strong>the</strong> biggest offshore race in <strong>the</strong><br />

United States. That was simply a race for competition<br />

and fun, what I would call a recreational<br />

race. However, <strong>the</strong> three clipper route record<br />

passages—San Francisco to Boston by way of<br />

Cape Horn, doublehanded, 1993; New York<br />

to Melbourne by way of Cape of Good Hope,<br />

doublehanded, 2001; and Hong Kong–New<br />

York by way of Sunda Strait and Cape of Good<br />

Hope, doublehanded, 2003—plus <strong>the</strong> 2004<br />

solo Transatlantic Race and <strong>the</strong> 2008–2009<br />

Vendée Globe were all done to provide content<br />

for K—12 school programs through sitesALIVE!<br />

(www.sitesalive.com)<br />

During <strong>the</strong> Vendée Globe run, sitesALIVE<br />

had 50 U.S. newspapers publishing a 15-part<br />

weekly series written by me while I was at sea<br />

aboard Great American III. <strong>The</strong> newspapers<br />

<strong>the</strong>n distributed classroom sets of papers to<br />

participating teachers (whom <strong>the</strong> newspaper<br />

Rich wilson waves to <strong>the</strong> crowd upon completion of <strong>the</strong> 2008/09 Vendée Globe in Great American III, Images courtesy Rich Wilson.


around <strong>the</strong> world Nonstop<br />

Upon his completion of <strong>the</strong> 2008/09 Vendée Globe on March 10,<br />

Rich Wilson and <strong>the</strong> 60-foot Great American III had sailed 28,590.2 NM in<br />

121 days, 41 minutes, and 19 seconds.


had recruited by its marketing of our program, and<br />

whom had received our Teacher’s Guide with 15<br />

weekly classroom activities). We reached 7 million<br />

readers weekly and some 250,000 students<br />

with this program. Plus we had a team of more<br />

than a dozen experts—including Longitude author<br />

Dava Sobel; Jan Witting, a specialist in oceans<br />

and climate; and Ambrose Jearld of <strong>the</strong> National<br />

Marine Fisheries Service—who wrote for <strong>the</strong> series<br />

and answered students’ questions online.<br />

EJ: Sailing in <strong>the</strong>se races—with <strong>the</strong> wea<strong>the</strong>r and<br />

sea conditions and only one or two on board to<br />

handle <strong>the</strong> craft—is no mean feat. Have you had any<br />

particularly challenging or frightening moments<br />

RW: In 1990, during our first effort at <strong>the</strong> San<br />

Francisco-Boston race, we were capsized 400<br />

miles west of Cape Horn in 65-foot seas. We<br />

were upside down for 90 minutes before a wave<br />

re-righted <strong>the</strong> 60-foot-long, 40-foot-wide trimaran.<br />

This was <strong>the</strong> first time in history that a capsized<br />

trimaran has been re-righted by a wave.<br />

EJ: What was <strong>the</strong> first thing that went through your<br />

mind at that moment<br />

RW: Getting into <strong>the</strong> survival suit, setting off <strong>the</strong><br />

EPIRB [Emergency Position Indicating Radio<br />

Beacon], wondering how to make this dire situation<br />

better…<br />

EJ: How did you respond to <strong>the</strong> situation<br />

RW: Got into <strong>the</strong> survival suit, set off <strong>the</strong> EPIRB,<br />

cracked <strong>the</strong> emergency hatch to act as a pressure<br />

release valve for <strong>the</strong> compressing/decompressing<br />

of air in <strong>the</strong> cabin due to <strong>the</strong> waves surging<br />

into <strong>the</strong> cabin, sit on an upside down shelf to get<br />

out of <strong>the</strong> 40º F seawater.<br />

EJ: Had you prepared for such a situation<br />

RW: No. I had talked with several sailors who had<br />

been capsized in trimarans. And I had read about<br />

those situations. But <strong>the</strong>re was no information on<br />

a capsized trimaran being re-righted, because it<br />

had never happened. And, being back upright was<br />

worse. Upside down, we had shin-deep water in<br />

<strong>the</strong> cabin. Re-righted, we had neck-deep water in<br />

<strong>the</strong> cabin. So we moved flares, life raft, EPIRBS,<br />

etc., to <strong>the</strong> sail locker forward, and bailed out <strong>the</strong><br />

4 feet of water, and took refuge <strong>the</strong>re.<br />

EJ: Did <strong>the</strong> event change your approach to sailing<br />

RW: Not a lot. We had <strong>the</strong> gear that we needed<br />

close at hand. We’d picked a superstrong boat that<br />

survived <strong>the</strong> somersaulting double capsize. We’d<br />

try to do that again. Plus, we wouldn’t change how<br />

lucky we were to have <strong>the</strong> New Zealand Pacific<br />

[at <strong>the</strong> time, <strong>the</strong> world’s largest refrigerated container<br />

ship] find us, with a breathtakingly skilled<br />

and experienced crew aboard that executed an<br />

unimaginable rescue in appalling conditions.<br />

EJ: We know <strong>the</strong> risks inherent in what you do are<br />

formidable. What intellectual, spiritual, or emotional<br />

rewards you have garnered in <strong>the</strong> process<br />

RW: <strong>The</strong> sole reason to do <strong>the</strong>se most risky voyages<br />

has been to create programs ashore, primarily<br />

for schools, secondarily for asthmatics. I’ve had<br />

asthma since I was a one-year-old. For <strong>the</strong> Vendée<br />

Globe, our most recent race, we also added senior<br />

citizens to our program outreach as I was 58 at<br />

<strong>the</strong> start and thought <strong>the</strong>y would be able to relate.<br />

I’m a very conservative sailor, and risk management<br />

is accomplished by knowledge, experience,<br />

and preparation. I’m a professional educator, not<br />

a professional sailor, and I’ve raced <strong>the</strong> riskiest<br />

event in <strong>the</strong> world, <strong>the</strong> Vendée Globe. More than<br />

3,000 people have climbed Everest; 500 people<br />

have been astronauts; 50 have sailed solo nonstop<br />

around <strong>the</strong> world. Yet, I deem <strong>the</strong> potential benefits<br />

ashore for schoolchildren or asthmatics to be worth<br />

<strong>the</strong> personal risk to me offshore.<br />

EJ: Tell us about <strong>the</strong> impact of sitesALIVE.<br />

RW: SitesALIVE has produced 75 live, interactive,<br />

full-semester (12 weeks) programs for K–12 in <strong>the</strong><br />

past 16 years. <strong>The</strong>se have come from rainforest<br />

research centers, marine biology institutes, o<strong>the</strong>r<br />

sailing ships at sea, etc.; of <strong>the</strong> 75 programs, five<br />

have been my voyages. <strong>The</strong> concept is to excite<br />

and engage kids with <strong>the</strong> adventure, and if <strong>the</strong>y’re<br />

excited, <strong>the</strong>y pay attention, and if <strong>the</strong>y pay attention,<br />

<strong>the</strong>n <strong>the</strong> science, math, geography flows freely and<br />

with purpose. It connects <strong>the</strong>m to real people doing<br />

real things in <strong>the</strong> real world.<br />

EJ: What advice would you have for someone following<br />

in your footsteps<br />

RW: Work your way up <strong>the</strong> knowledge and experience<br />

curve deliberately and slowly. Talk to those<br />

who know more than you do, read everything,<br />

prepare meticulously, ask questions, and, most<br />

important, listen to <strong>the</strong> answers.<br />

20


RISK III<br />

not<br />

a good day to die<br />

<strong>The</strong> Author makes her way through a grove of stalactites—several 100,000 years old—in <strong>the</strong> “Wedding Hall Room” within Lucayan Caverns, Grand Bahama, <strong>The</strong> Bahamas. Photograph courtesy Stephanie j. Schwabe.<br />

I can almost hear my black wetsuit and <strong>the</strong> 100<br />

pounds of metal equipment I have donned sizzle<br />

like a hot frying pan under a cold tap as I jump<br />

into <strong>the</strong> water. <strong>The</strong> sound is quickly downed out<br />

by <strong>the</strong> mass of air-bubbles exiting my dive-gear.<br />

If I had not jumped <strong>the</strong>n and <strong>the</strong>re into to <strong>the</strong> watery<br />

entrance of Guardian Cave—a fracture cave<br />

located on <strong>the</strong> sou<strong>the</strong>rn end of <strong>the</strong> North Island of<br />

Andros—I would gladly have grabbed a knife and<br />

cut myself out of my suit. Removing <strong>the</strong> wetsuit<br />

in <strong>the</strong> conventional manner would have taken far<br />

too much time, rendering me unconscious with<br />

heatstroke from <strong>the</strong> high-noon Bahamian sun.<br />

I am not normally this stressed before a dive,<br />

but today I was working with a documentary film<br />

team from Japan. <strong>The</strong>re had been a lapse in translation<br />

of what was to happen before entering <strong>the</strong><br />

cave and I ended up standing in <strong>the</strong> sun with all<br />

my gear on for nearly 20 minutes as I waited for<br />

<strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r two divers who were accompanying me<br />

into <strong>the</strong> cave to get into <strong>the</strong> water.<br />

As <strong>the</strong> cool water made its way into my wetsuit,<br />

my body responded quickly and I began to calm<br />

down, my heartbeat no longer audible to me. As I<br />

focused on my surroundings, I saw <strong>the</strong> two divers<br />

below me. <strong>The</strong>y seemed to be okay. I <strong>the</strong>n looked<br />

by Stephanie Jutta Schwabe<br />

for <strong>the</strong> down-line, which held our decompression<br />

gasses and extra bottles of compressed air. I<br />

saw <strong>the</strong> line in <strong>the</strong> shadow of <strong>the</strong> rock overhang<br />

above and swam over to it. I moved down <strong>the</strong> line,<br />

checking that each bottle was at <strong>the</strong> appropriate<br />

depth and that each was pressurized and ready<br />

for use in a moment’s notice. As I descended, <strong>the</strong><br />

water became darker and cooler, cool enough that<br />

I began to think, let’s just get on with <strong>the</strong> dive.<br />

I am not a cold-water diver by choice though<br />

most divers would not consider <strong>the</strong>se waters cold.<br />

However, I learned early on that, given enough<br />

time, any body of water that doesn’t match your<br />

body temperature can induce hypo<strong>the</strong>rmia. It may<br />

take longer for it to happen in <strong>the</strong>se waters but<br />

when you get out, your lips are purple and you<br />

shake like a leaf, begging for <strong>the</strong> sun’s embrace.<br />

As I finished checking <strong>the</strong> last bottle, I turned<br />

around to look for <strong>the</strong> two o<strong>the</strong>r divers, I spotted<br />

<strong>the</strong>m with <strong>the</strong>ir eyes glued on me. I signaled to<br />

<strong>the</strong>m to come over and when <strong>the</strong>y arrived, I began<br />

my decent to find <strong>the</strong> south leading guideline that<br />

had been placed in <strong>the</strong> cave earlier by o<strong>the</strong>r divers.<br />

I now hoped that <strong>the</strong> two divers would remember<br />

<strong>the</strong> plan we had discussed earlier and stick to it.<br />

I consider Guardian Cave a relatively simple<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


cave to dive. <strong>The</strong> passage heads straight south,<br />

pinched out nearly 300 meters from <strong>the</strong> entrance.<br />

<strong>The</strong> exit, which was our entrance, progressed<br />

downward at a nearly 45º angle, demanding that<br />

divers constantly clear <strong>the</strong>ir ears. About 50 meters<br />

in, <strong>the</strong> passage opens up and <strong>the</strong> ceiling begins to<br />

cantilever away, enabling us to level out and swim<br />

without being forced to go deeper because of <strong>the</strong><br />

angle of <strong>the</strong> ceiling. It had its deep parts, 55 meters<br />

to <strong>the</strong> top of <strong>the</strong> sediment on <strong>the</strong> floor, but <strong>the</strong><br />

main passage was in shallower water so unless<br />

<strong>the</strong>re was a plan to collect floor sediments, as I<br />

had hoped, most of <strong>the</strong> dive would be in shallower<br />

water, making this a ra<strong>the</strong>r body-friendly dive.<br />

As we made our way in, I felt <strong>the</strong> heat of <strong>the</strong><br />

filming lamps on my backside. That was <strong>the</strong> signal<br />

for me to open up my plankton net and shine my<br />

dive light into it, making for more dramatic viewing.<br />

As I went deeper into <strong>the</strong> cave, <strong>the</strong> water—which<br />

near <strong>the</strong> entrance tends to be greenish brown<br />

because of organic input—became almost invisible.<br />

If it weren’t for <strong>the</strong> fact that I was floating and<br />

could feel <strong>the</strong> water, I wouldn’t know it was <strong>the</strong>re.<br />

It is breathtaking and always dramatic in its o<strong>the</strong>rworldly<br />

beauty. This is why I dive <strong>the</strong>se places.<br />

<strong>The</strong> walls, which seemed to continue endlessly<br />

above and below me, revealed beautiful curtain<br />

stalactites. Although <strong>the</strong>y were formed when sea<br />

level was some 200 meters lower, about 125,000<br />

years ago, <strong>the</strong>ir structures appear undisturbed<br />

by <strong>the</strong> change of events, sparkling in perfection<br />

except for <strong>the</strong> endless attack of bacterial acids.<br />

<strong>The</strong> entire wall is covered in holes nearly twocentimeters<br />

in diameter; even nature’s perfect<br />

crystal formations weren’t spared. This is what<br />

I was looking for—more evidence to support my<br />

biogenic hypo<strong>the</strong>sis that bacterial acids are responsible<br />

for dissolving <strong>the</strong> limestone and enlarging<br />

fracture caves, not rainwater acid, a <strong>the</strong>ory still<br />

being taught today. Excited by my find, I wanted<br />

swim over and examine <strong>the</strong> dimpled cave formations.<br />

Closer scrutiny, however, would have to<br />

wait. I was here to help <strong>the</strong> film crew. <strong>The</strong> science<br />

was just a sideline, my sideline.<br />

<strong>The</strong> plan was for me to swim along <strong>the</strong> eastern<br />

wall, slowly make my way to <strong>the</strong> center, and descend<br />

to <strong>the</strong> cave floor to collect a quick sediment<br />

sample. As I folded up my plankton net and made<br />

my way down, <strong>the</strong> two divers filmed my progress.<br />

I collected my sample quickly and was about to<br />

begin my trip back to <strong>the</strong> guideline and out of <strong>the</strong><br />

cave when one of <strong>the</strong> cameramen signaled that<br />

he had hit “thirds” and it was time to leave. <strong>The</strong><br />

rule of thumb for successful caving diving is that<br />

you only use a third of your air supply to get into<br />

<strong>the</strong> cave, a third to get out, and have a reserve<br />

third should all hell break loose.<br />

I signaled back to him that we were heading<br />

out. I led <strong>the</strong> way back to <strong>the</strong> guideline. When I<br />

floated up to <strong>the</strong> guideline, <strong>the</strong> cameraman suddenly<br />

rose up in front of me, giving me <strong>the</strong> index<br />

finger across <strong>the</strong> throat to signal that he was “out<br />

of air.” I was surprised as we had only been in<br />

<strong>the</strong> cave for about 15 minutes. I looked at him<br />

and handed him <strong>the</strong> regulator I had in my mouth.<br />

He shook his head indicating that he didn’t want<br />

it. Surprised and disturbed by his response, I offered<br />

him <strong>the</strong> regulator on my o<strong>the</strong>r bottle, which<br />

had a shorter hose and, much to my surprise,<br />

that seemed okay. <strong>The</strong> only problem was that he<br />

needed to be on <strong>the</strong> two-meter hose so that he<br />

could follow behind or swim ahead of me through<br />

<strong>the</strong> cave as <strong>the</strong> entrance was too narrow for us<br />

to travel side by side. <strong>The</strong> cameraman seemed to<br />

be pretty calm after a few breaths. Once again, I<br />

offered him my two-meter hose and this time he<br />

took it, much to my relief.<br />

While we were playing switch regulators, we<br />

had drifted into <strong>the</strong> ceiling well above <strong>the</strong> guideline<br />

that would lead us out. <strong>The</strong> ceiling in this<br />

segment of <strong>the</strong> cave is like <strong>the</strong> tip of a triangle,<br />

not flat, which actually may have helped save<br />

our lives. In <strong>the</strong> wedge, I had him close to me,<br />

in control. <strong>The</strong> moment I grabbed <strong>the</strong> shoulder<br />

harness of his buoyancy compensator to guide<br />

him down to <strong>the</strong> guideline below us, however, he<br />

flipped out. With eyes as big as dinner plates he<br />

began to fight me. I grabbed him again by <strong>the</strong><br />

harness, this time under his chin. At <strong>the</strong> same<br />

time I looked at my air supply and realized that he<br />

had brea<strong>the</strong>d down nearly one bottle of gas and<br />

now I was in a near out-of-air situation.<br />

Taking my eyes off of my pressure gauge and<br />

locking <strong>the</strong>m onto <strong>the</strong> cameraman, I could suddenly<br />

hear my heart beat in my ears and I felt <strong>the</strong><br />

blood begin to pulse in my head. We were in very<br />

deep trouble. <strong>The</strong> diver who was still squirming<br />

in my grip suddenly found himself slammed<br />

against <strong>the</strong> wall with my hand in his face bubbling<br />

at him to stop! At <strong>the</strong> same time, I was yelling at<br />

myself internally that this was not a good day to<br />

die, not that I can think of any day being good<br />

22


for that. I also remember thinking that I was not<br />

going to do this to my mo<strong>the</strong>r who was so scared<br />

every time she knew I was going cave diving.<br />

She had lived through <strong>the</strong> loss of my husband,<br />

Robert John Palmer, and three months later a<br />

friend of ten years, whose body I had to recover.<br />

I had promised her that I was going to be careful<br />

and here I was with a dive instructor, boisterous<br />

about his diving skills although I had told him that<br />

cave diving was dangerous and that I didn’t want<br />

to take <strong>the</strong>m into a cave because <strong>the</strong>y were not<br />

experienced enough. Now I too was in danger of<br />

dying Hell no! Not on my shift.<br />

I didn’t know where <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r diver was but I<br />

knew that if he was in trouble, <strong>the</strong>re was nothing<br />

I could do about it. I had my hands full. As<br />

for my current charge, I snatched him off <strong>the</strong> wall<br />

and pushed him down to <strong>the</strong> guideline, trying in<br />

bubble words to explain that we needed to get to<br />

<strong>the</strong> guideline to get out. He seemed to submit to<br />

my command. Once on <strong>the</strong> line, I looked for <strong>the</strong><br />

plastic line arrows that pointed <strong>the</strong> way out. In<br />

what would be considered a “Hail Mary” moment,<br />

I choose a direction, and very lucky for us, I had<br />

chosen <strong>the</strong> right one and we began to swim out<br />

with every bit of reserve energy that I had.<br />

I controlled my breathing by focusing on my<br />

swimming pace, breathing deeply and exhaling<br />

slowly, all <strong>the</strong> while shouting words of encouragement<br />

to <strong>the</strong> cameraman, although I think some of<br />

<strong>the</strong> words were for my benefit as well.<br />

Just when I thought that we were not going to<br />

make it, I saw <strong>the</strong> light-green glow of <strong>the</strong> entrance<br />

and <strong>the</strong>n saw something that gave me <strong>the</strong> greatest<br />

hope of all, <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r diver was swimming to us<br />

with a spare bottle. He didn’t realize that not only<br />

was his buddy out of air, but that I was about two<br />

puffs away from being in <strong>the</strong> same situation. <strong>The</strong><br />

cameraman grabbed <strong>the</strong> bottle and began breathing.<br />

I guided him to <strong>the</strong> down-line and instructed<br />

him to stay. I swam up to <strong>the</strong> next available bottle<br />

of much needed air.<br />

I realized that I did not have enough air on <strong>the</strong><br />

down-line for three people in an out-of-air situation.<br />

However, we had enough air for me to think how<br />

I was going to resolve this huge problem. Once<br />

everyone, including myself, was calm and breathing<br />

normally, I began to make my move. I knew that<br />

if I got this part of <strong>the</strong> dive wrong, I might get <strong>the</strong><br />

bends. I went back down to <strong>the</strong> divers below me<br />

on <strong>the</strong> line and tried to explain that <strong>the</strong>y were to<br />

stay where <strong>the</strong>y were. I checked <strong>the</strong>ir air supply<br />

and made a mental note of how much air <strong>the</strong>re<br />

was. I moved up to <strong>the</strong> pure oxygen bottle and<br />

spent about ten minutes breathing 100 percent<br />

oxygen. I <strong>the</strong>n glided up to <strong>the</strong> surface and without<br />

a hello, instructed <strong>the</strong> rest of <strong>the</strong> film crew to<br />

get <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r bottles rigged up with regulators. I<br />

needed <strong>the</strong>m yesterday and that I would be up in<br />

a few minutes to collect <strong>the</strong>m. <strong>The</strong>n I disappeared<br />

below <strong>the</strong> water surface to return to my decompression<br />

station. A few minutes later I returned to<br />

<strong>the</strong> surface expecting to have bottles handed to<br />

me but what I got was a full bottle of air without a<br />

regulator and was informed that <strong>the</strong>y didn’t have<br />

a spare regulator. I won’t repeat what I said, but it<br />

was not helpful.<br />

I vanished below to surface again, without <strong>the</strong><br />

air, and thought about how I was going to solve<br />

this problem. I decided to cycle <strong>the</strong> divers onto<br />

100 percent oxygen and take <strong>the</strong> bottle <strong>the</strong>y<br />

were breathing off of to <strong>the</strong> surface and have<br />

<strong>the</strong>m change out <strong>the</strong> regulators. That worked, so<br />

I ended up doing that for two o<strong>the</strong>r bottles. I now<br />

was worried about decompression sickness.<br />

Eventually everyone was able to fulfill <strong>the</strong>ir decompression<br />

obligation, including me. Needless<br />

to say, I spent a fair bit more time in <strong>the</strong> water<br />

than <strong>the</strong> rest. Unfortunately, when I got out, I was<br />

told that one of <strong>the</strong> cameramen had dropped<br />

<strong>the</strong> half-million-dollar HD camera and needed it<br />

back. <strong>The</strong>re were no spare HD cameras. Without<br />

<strong>the</strong> camera, <strong>the</strong>ir entire trip was a bust.<br />

An hour later I found myself alone, diving back<br />

into what almost become my watery grave to recover<br />

a camera that was so gangly that it was like<br />

swimming with a slippery buffalo. Again, I got a<br />

workout that I didn’t need. I was incredibly lucky<br />

not to get bent.<br />

Thinking about <strong>the</strong> events later, I realized I had<br />

been given ano<strong>the</strong>r chance. I allowed myself to<br />

be talked into breaking my own rules about cave<br />

diving, and that would never happen again.<br />

biography<br />

A professor in <strong>the</strong> Department of Earth and Environmental<br />

Sciences at <strong>the</strong> University of Kentucky, Stephanie Jutta<br />

Schwabe Ph.D., Esq., is Founder and Director of <strong>the</strong> Rob<br />

Palmer Blue Holes Foundation, www.blueholes.org. She is <strong>the</strong><br />

author of <strong>the</strong> recently released Living in Darkness (National<br />

Speleological Society, 2009).<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


RISK IV<br />

Art Mortvedt<br />

on grizzlies, engine-outs, and what it<br />

means to live <strong>the</strong> good life in <strong>the</strong> outback<br />

It has been 40 years since Art Mortvedt laid eyes on<br />

his first airplane. Today, with more than 5,000 hours<br />

of extreme Arctic flying under his belt, he has become<br />

a legend in <strong>the</strong> field of polar exploration and wilderness<br />

survival. <strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong> tracked down<br />

Mortvedt at his Brooks Range home to find out just<br />

what it takes to beat <strong>the</strong> odds—so long as <strong>the</strong> game<br />

lasts.<br />

24<br />

EJ: What was it that led you to pursue a career in<br />

polar exploration and aviation and eventually to<br />

bush flying in <strong>the</strong> Alaska outback<br />

AM: It “evolved.” I grew up on a small farm in<br />

central North Dakota, with ample opportunities<br />

to explore as a young boy. Our one-room schoolhouse<br />

on <strong>the</strong> prairie was about a mile or so from<br />

our farm; and on <strong>the</strong> way, walking, I could explore<br />

Art Mortvedt in notrhern greenland..


<strong>the</strong> creeks and ditches for various sorts of wild<br />

creatures and <strong>the</strong>ir tracks. When I was old enough<br />

for my own trapline and to carry a gun—probably<br />

at age 7 or 8—I began trapping, <strong>the</strong> money from<br />

which provided more outdoor gear, school<br />

clo<strong>the</strong>s, etc. On a couple occasions, after having<br />

caught skunks in <strong>the</strong> morning, <strong>the</strong> teacher sent<br />

me home with <strong>the</strong> suggestion that I take ano<strong>the</strong>r<br />

bath or two. Our farm happened to be located on<br />

<strong>the</strong> banks of <strong>the</strong> Missouri River, an area where <strong>the</strong><br />

Hidatsa, Mandan, and Arikara peoples had lived<br />

or traveled through. Finding campsites and artifacts<br />

from <strong>the</strong>se cultures, I believe, prompted my<br />

keen interest in traditional cultures all around <strong>the</strong><br />

world. My fa<strong>the</strong>r was an explorer in his own right;<br />

but raising four kids kept him from branching out<br />

particularly far—in person; but he read everything<br />

he could get his hands on. This included a magazine<br />

called <strong>The</strong> Alaska Sportsman. Dad read it,<br />

dreaming about <strong>the</strong> Far North, as did I. I didn’t<br />

actually head “North” until many years later; but<br />

<strong>the</strong> seed had been planted.<br />

One day, in a horse pasture adjacent to our<br />

nearest town—Stanton, North Dakota—a man<br />

called John Morton landed an Aeronca Champ,<br />

coming to town to service <strong>the</strong> local pinball<br />

machines. When I saw <strong>the</strong> airplane go over town,<br />

I pedaled my bicycle out to <strong>the</strong> horse pasture and<br />

met Morton. I remember his name because he<br />

said, “My name is Morton, just like <strong>the</strong> salt you<br />

know.” <strong>The</strong>n he said, “Kid, would you like to go for<br />

a ride” Wow, I thought, what an opportunity. So I<br />

hopped in, and we went for my first airplane ride.<br />

A number of years later, a local woman who lost<br />

her husband in an aerial crop-spraying accident<br />

offered a scholarship to learn to fly. I received<br />

that scholarship. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough<br />

to complete <strong>the</strong> private license; so I shelved <strong>the</strong><br />

idea until I had been living in <strong>the</strong> Alaska bush for<br />

a number of years. My wife and I had gone <strong>the</strong>re<br />

initially to teach Inuit kids above <strong>the</strong> Arctic Circle<br />

in <strong>the</strong> small village of Shungnak. I took a year off<br />

from teaching to live in <strong>the</strong> Alaska wilderness,<br />

train a dog team, hunt, fish, and trap—essentially<br />

starting to live <strong>the</strong> dream that had gone to seed<br />

with my dad and myself on <strong>the</strong> farm. I went to a<br />

place called Selby Lake in <strong>the</strong> Brooks Range to<br />

repair a cabin that a grizzly bear had trashed in<br />

exchange for staying <strong>the</strong>re for a year. That year<br />

has turned into 35 years already!<br />

After living in <strong>the</strong> bush, and chartering aircraft<br />

for a number of years, I decided that I definitely<br />

needed my own aircraft. So, after talking with local<br />

pilots, I decided that what I needed was a 90 hp<br />

7EC Champ with no electrical system. I wanted<br />

something that was light enough that I could handle<br />

alone in deep snow. So I put an ad in Trade-A-<br />

Plane; and a guy in Atcheson, Kansas, had exactly<br />

what I was looking for. I hopped on <strong>the</strong> jet, flew<br />

to Atcheson, looked at such a beautiful airplane;<br />

and got <strong>the</strong> owner to agree to keep it for a month<br />

until I could return with a pilot’s license. So I again<br />

hopped on <strong>the</strong> jet, flew to Mesa, Arizona, where<br />

I took flight instruction twice a day and studied<br />

ground school in <strong>the</strong> interim. I finished my license<br />

in 28 days, flew back to Atcheson, bought my new<br />

airplane, and headed for Alaska. I well remember<br />

<strong>the</strong> first flight; because with no radio I had no idea<br />

just how strong <strong>the</strong> wind had developed. When<br />

<strong>the</strong> gas gauge said zero, I landed in a farmer’s<br />

field, spent a couple days building calf pens, going<br />

to local events, etc., and proceeded on when<br />

<strong>the</strong> wind died down. I used that airplane in <strong>the</strong><br />

Alaska bush for many years.<br />

After having lived in <strong>the</strong> bush for a few years, I<br />

took a trip down to Christchurch, New Zealand.<br />

One afternoon while I was <strong>the</strong>re, I learned a bit<br />

about <strong>the</strong> American Antarctic Program. I decided<br />

that was ano<strong>the</strong>r part of <strong>the</strong> world that I wanted<br />

to explore. So after I got home, I bought a ticket<br />

to Newark, NJ—near Paramus where ITT Antarctic<br />

Services was located—and <strong>the</strong>n phoned <strong>the</strong> company<br />

to give <strong>the</strong>m my arrival details. At that point,<br />

I asked when I could schedule an interview. <strong>The</strong>y<br />

knew I was serious. I got <strong>the</strong> job with no problem<br />

and with quite a bit of Arctic experience already<br />

under my belt.<br />

After several seasons working in Antarctica,<br />

I had no problem getting positions in <strong>the</strong> High<br />

Arctic—based out of nor<strong>the</strong>rn Greenland—working<br />

on Department of Defense research projects.<br />

Each spring, our team would spend a month or<br />

two living in tents in drifting pack ice of <strong>the</strong> Arctic<br />

Ocean. One of our illustrious visitors was Al Gore.<br />

So <strong>the</strong>n, after considerably more Arctic experience,<br />

I kept going back to <strong>the</strong> Antarctic. I have<br />

gone <strong>the</strong>re now 20 or so times.<br />

In 1999, as part of my work with Adventure<br />

Network International, I was tasked with flying a<br />

French woman, Laurence de la Ferrière, to <strong>the</strong><br />

South Pole to begin her skiing expedition north to<br />

<strong>the</strong> coast of Antarctica. I was flying a bright orange<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


ooks range rainbow<br />

A rainbow arches across Selby Lake in <strong>the</strong> Brooks Range of Alaska<br />

where Art Mortvedt and his planes, including a Cessna 180 on floats,<br />

are based. Photograph by Damaris Mortvedt.


Cessna 185 fondly called <strong>the</strong> “Polar Pumpkin.” I<br />

thought even <strong>the</strong>n—while at <strong>the</strong> pole—“why not fly<br />

this airplane to <strong>the</strong> North Pole someday.” As luck<br />

would have it, Adventure Network—now Antarctic<br />

Logistics and Expeditions—decided to use only<br />

twin-engine aircraft and put <strong>the</strong> Polar Pumpkin<br />

up for sale. I bought <strong>the</strong> aircraft. I am now making<br />

preparations to fly it to—and land it at—<strong>the</strong><br />

Geographic North Pole in April 2010.<br />

Instead of just making <strong>the</strong> flight and burning up<br />

a bunch of gas for nothing, I am working with two<br />

of <strong>the</strong> world’s great microbial scientists—Birgit<br />

Sattler in Austria and Michael Storrie-Lombardi<br />

in California—to collect<br />

laser images of life in<br />

<strong>the</strong> ice as I fly across<br />

<strong>the</strong> Arctic Ocean<br />

(www.polarflight90.<br />

com). Hopefully, this<br />

technique can be applied<br />

in <strong>the</strong> search<br />

for life on Mars and<br />

o<strong>the</strong>r planets. Sattler<br />

and Storrie-Lombardi<br />

were members of an<br />

international team of 15<br />

persons that I guided<br />

to Queen Maude Land,<br />

Antarctica, during<br />

<strong>the</strong> austral summer of<br />

2008–2009 (www.<br />

expedition.tawanifoundation.org).<br />

So, to<br />

make a long story short,<br />

I still live in <strong>the</strong> Arctic<br />

(67’N 155’W), run a<br />

lodge called <strong>the</strong> Peace<br />

of Selby Wilderness (www.alaskawilderness.<br />

net), and use a bush plane daily, like a rancher<br />

would use a pickup truck. <strong>The</strong> vastness, purity,<br />

and mystery of <strong>the</strong> polar regions still captures my<br />

imagination; and I suppose I will keep going <strong>the</strong>re<br />

until I am physically unable to do so.<br />

EJ: What has been, in your estimation, <strong>the</strong> most<br />

challenging or frightening moment of your exploration<br />

career<br />

AM: Perhaps <strong>the</strong> most challenging/frightening moments<br />

in my exploration career occur when <strong>the</strong>re is<br />

<strong>the</strong> need to traverse rush-hour traffic in some of <strong>the</strong><br />

world’s great cities. O<strong>the</strong>rwise, <strong>the</strong>re have been<br />

28<br />

a few memorable moments. <strong>The</strong> hair on <strong>the</strong> back<br />

on my neck still begins to rise when I think about<br />

<strong>the</strong> time my partner and I accidentally got close to<br />

a coastal brown bear female with two cubs. <strong>The</strong><br />

female bear put <strong>the</strong> cubs up a nearby tree, turned<br />

on her heels, and came charging at us full steam—<br />

pitting, snarling, and tearing up <strong>the</strong> ground. My<br />

partner and I each had guns; and were poised to<br />

shoot if <strong>the</strong> bear jumped <strong>the</strong> creek in front of us.<br />

<strong>The</strong> bear didn’t, we didn’t shoot; and about <strong>the</strong><br />

time we started to relax a little bit, <strong>the</strong> bear turned<br />

and did <strong>the</strong> same thing twice. Perhaps I have a<br />

grey hair or two from that experience. I’ve only had<br />

two engine failures in<br />

my flying career; and in<br />

both cases, I was able<br />

to find a place to land.<br />

In one of those cases,<br />

I had at least 300<br />

pounds of moose meat<br />

in <strong>the</strong> back seat, so I<br />

was prepared to camp<br />

for quite a prolonged<br />

period! Much of <strong>the</strong><br />

time in <strong>the</strong> bush, I travel<br />

alone. I fell through <strong>the</strong><br />

ice of <strong>the</strong> Kobuk River;<br />

and it tried to suck me<br />

under. I had two dead<br />

branches as handholds<br />

to keep me from being<br />

swept under. In his<br />

excitement, my partner<br />

on that trip broke one of<br />

those handholds. I told<br />

him to “relax, reach in<br />

<strong>the</strong> water, grab my belt,<br />

and pull me out,” which he did, so I’m here and<br />

able to write about it. Actually, that incident was<br />

only a small part of a very bad trip. We got stuck<br />

in our tents for days by a huge dump of heavy wet<br />

snow. By <strong>the</strong> time we got back to <strong>the</strong> cabin, <strong>the</strong><br />

heavy snow on <strong>the</strong> top of my airplane wings had<br />

collapsed <strong>the</strong> wings. As a result, I had a couple<br />

days of work getting <strong>the</strong> wings put back in shape,<br />

struts splinted, wing spars inspected, etc., before<br />

I could fly it out to a proper mechanic.<br />

<strong>The</strong> Arctic Ocean is a dynamic environment—<br />

always freezing, cracking, refreezing—and, in one<br />

case, <strong>the</strong> ice floe on which we were camped<br />

splintered into pieces. Tents and gear were<br />

art mortvedt and <strong>the</strong> Polar Pumpkin, a cessna 185, at 85ºS 82ºW. he spent 6 days <strong>the</strong>re, riding out a storm on a return from <strong>the</strong> south pole. Self portrait.


floating every which way. We managed to get<br />

our team on <strong>the</strong> same piece of ice—next to our<br />

survival sleds—and we relocated to a safer position.<br />

Finding myself less than ten feet from three<br />

polar bears, on ano<strong>the</strong>r of our Arctic Ocean<br />

projects, may have produced ano<strong>the</strong>r grey hair or<br />

two. <strong>The</strong>re was a time when I was snowshoeing<br />

with a pack basket of traps on my back; and I<br />

broke through <strong>the</strong> ice. <strong>The</strong> weight of <strong>the</strong> pack<br />

tried to pull me under backwards; so I was trying<br />

to compensate for that, and at <strong>the</strong> same time get<br />

out of my snowshoes. That got to be a bit tricky<br />

for a while. Relative to thin ice, my dog team—and<br />

a particularly fabulous lead dog named Punnik—<br />

saved my neck more than once. Realistically,<br />

perhaps <strong>the</strong> most challenging and/or frightening<br />

moment in my exploration career will be <strong>the</strong> moment<br />

of realization that I am no longer physically<br />

able to explore this amazing world into which we<br />

were so fortunate to be born.<br />

EJ: What went through your mind during some<br />

of your more challenging moments and how did<br />

you respond<br />

AM: In <strong>the</strong> “close to death” moments that I have<br />

experienced, I have done my best to not be frightened.<br />

In most cases, <strong>the</strong>re hasn’t been time to<br />

be frightened anyway. Perhaps <strong>the</strong> first thought<br />

is, “Am I prepared to handle this situation, have<br />

I done my best” If I have done my best, all is<br />

fair and I should be prepared to accept <strong>the</strong> fate<br />

and power of Mo<strong>the</strong>r Nature—or, if you will, God.<br />

Wilderness and nature somehow, within me at<br />

least, have developed a certain peace and acceptance<br />

if I have honestly done my best to live within<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir awesome parameters.<br />

Of course, each situation is different. As I mentioned,<br />

<strong>the</strong>re is so little time to be frightened in a<br />

really serious situation; <strong>the</strong>refore, I believe that a<br />

proper response must be “instinctive.” If one were<br />

well prepared, one would logically expect that<br />

an instinctive response would be proper. If that<br />

response is not proper, it may mean death. But<br />

people have been dying for some years now; so it<br />

should be no surprise.<br />

EJ: How have you prepared for your work in such<br />

harsh environments<br />

AM: I suppose that most of my training has been<br />

OJT—“on <strong>the</strong> job training.” On some projects<br />

sponsored by <strong>the</strong> National Science Foundation,<br />

we were required to complete a cold-wea<strong>the</strong>r<br />

survival course. O<strong>the</strong>rwise, in my background, my<br />

“cold wea<strong>the</strong>r survival course” has been surviving<br />

in <strong>the</strong> cold. <strong>The</strong>se days, I conduct <strong>the</strong> occasional<br />

survival course for expeditions into <strong>the</strong> Polar<br />

Regions. Whenever I’m out in <strong>the</strong> bush—guiding<br />

or alone—I try to observe behavior: behavior of <strong>the</strong><br />

wea<strong>the</strong>r, moose, bears, wolves, etc.; so when <strong>the</strong><br />

chips are down, I may best respond to whatever is<br />

presented to me.<br />

Experience implies knowledge and knowledge<br />

implies opportunities for expedition preparation<br />

in greater detail. Of course, attitude is key. One<br />

must always keep that cup half full. Adaptation<br />

is also of paramount importance. I always say<br />

that, in <strong>the</strong> Polar Regions, “<strong>the</strong> only constant is<br />

change.” A human lifespan is really such a short<br />

period of time that I believe we must make each<br />

day of our lives an “expedition”—a time to explore<br />

and discover meaningful concepts, places, and<br />

people so that at <strong>the</strong> end of our days, we’re not<br />

confronted with <strong>the</strong> profound disappointment<br />

that life has passed us by.<br />

EJ: Overall, how would you weigh <strong>the</strong> risks inherent<br />

in what you do with <strong>the</strong> intellectual/emotional<br />

rewards you have garnered in <strong>the</strong> process<br />

AM: Clearly life is a risk. Those of us that have<br />

been so blessed to be born must accept that<br />

risk. Leaders incur more risk than followers. Life is<br />

“safer” in a windowless room; but how is <strong>the</strong> view<br />

But to accept <strong>the</strong> risk, calculate, and proceed<br />

provides intellectual and emotional rewards that<br />

far surpass life in <strong>the</strong> closet. <strong>The</strong> “risk quotient”<br />

in what I do, at various remote parts of <strong>the</strong> world,<br />

perhaps is a bit higher for me than for some. But I<br />

believe my rewards may also be much higher than<br />

for some. It’s <strong>the</strong> price I pay. Perhaps one day I<br />

will not prepare correctly or I will not be physically<br />

able to handle a situation and I will die. But<br />

in <strong>the</strong> meantime, I will experience profound joy,<br />

fulfillment, and peace—and, hopefully, wisdom—in<br />

this great exploration adventure of life. For me, <strong>the</strong><br />

risks, without a doubt, are worth <strong>the</strong> rewards.<br />

EJ: What advice would you have for someone following<br />

in your footsteps<br />

AM: Our <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> friend and colleague Norman<br />

Vaughan stated it well when he said, “Dream Big,<br />

and Dare to Fail.” No matter what, keep that glass<br />

half full. Half empty will simply not do!<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


RISK V<br />

YVON CHOUINARD<br />

on craft, <strong>the</strong> environment,<br />

and fly-fishing at $100 an inch<br />

Yvon Chouinard, whose name—along with those of Royal<br />

Robbins and Tom Frost—is synonymous with Yosemite<br />

climbing, is a legend in <strong>the</strong> world of mountaineering. In<br />

addition to historic first ascents of El Capitan’s North<br />

American Wall in 1964 (done without <strong>the</strong> aid of fixed<br />

ropes) and Muir Wall in 1965, he has made numerous<br />

notable climbs in <strong>the</strong> Karakoram range, <strong>the</strong> Himalayas,<br />

and his beloved Patagonia. In <strong>the</strong> process, Chouinard<br />

literally reinvented <strong>the</strong> climber’s toolkit, changing<br />

<strong>the</strong> attack heads on ice axes and stiffening up crampons<br />

to afford better purchase. He also pioneered <strong>the</strong><br />

use of a new type of piton, which he hand-forged in<br />

a workshop and sold out of <strong>the</strong> back of a car. When<br />

pitons proved damaging to <strong>the</strong> rock in which <strong>the</strong>y were<br />

placed, Chouinard pulled <strong>the</strong>m from his offerings. In<br />

30<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir place, he developed a new type of climbing protection<br />

in <strong>the</strong> form of camming devices—hexcentrics<br />

and stoppers—that are removed upon completion of a<br />

climb. This launched <strong>the</strong> clean climbing movement and<br />

set Chouinard on a lifelong path with a leave-no-trace<br />

mantra.<br />

Chouinard, who founded Patagonia, Inc., in 1973, recently<br />

penned, Let My People Go Surfing (Penguin Group,<br />

2005), a how-to guide for staying in business without<br />

selling your soul. <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> Journal caught up<br />

with Chouinard—who at 71 is as honest as ever with<br />

regard to <strong>the</strong> world of adventure and risk—to discuss<br />

his views on climbing, environmental responsibility,<br />

and what he sees as <strong>the</strong> cultural degradation of <strong>the</strong><br />

outdoor experience.<br />

Yvon Chouinard in his blacksmith shop, Ventura, CA. Photograph by Tim Davis.


seventeenth pitch<br />

Yvon Chouinard traverses to <strong>the</strong> Black Dihedral, <strong>the</strong> seventeenth pitch<br />

of El Capitan’s North American Wall, 1964. Photograph by Tom Frost.


EJ: This issue, we are focusing on risk: why we, as<br />

<strong>explorers</strong>, tend to take risks and, at <strong>the</strong> end of <strong>the</strong><br />

day, what we get out of it all. You have taken risks.<br />

Care to tell us about any of <strong>the</strong>m<br />

YC: I believe in living life on <strong>the</strong> edge, exploring<br />

<strong>the</strong> edge in all of its intensity, but don’t try to cross<br />

it. Never exceed your limits. I have been caught<br />

in avalanches, set off avalanches. I say, do your<br />

homework, know when <strong>the</strong> time/conditions are<br />

right and when <strong>the</strong>y are not and plan accordingly.<br />

So many accidents are <strong>the</strong> direct result of laziness<br />

and/or stupidity. Whenever I have run risks, it was<br />

usually because I didn’t do my homework. Years<br />

ago, I was hiking in Colombia with a friend. We<br />

had come to a bridge across a river. My friend<br />

jumped into <strong>the</strong> river, <strong>the</strong> water was nice. I decide<br />

to dive in, only, where I hit <strong>the</strong> water, it happened<br />

to be less than a foot deep and I broke my neck. It<br />

was just stupid really.<br />

EJ: In addition to your historic ascents, you have<br />

made quite a mark on <strong>the</strong> outdoor industry. Has<br />

your outdoor experience had an impact on how<br />

you run your business<br />

YC: Just as you would want <strong>the</strong> best team possible<br />

on a climb, you look to pull toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong> best possible<br />

team in business. I have always looked for<br />

self-motivated people who can handle situations<br />

on <strong>the</strong>ir own. Unfortunately, most people with<br />

careers today are bound to <strong>the</strong>m such that <strong>the</strong>y<br />

cannot be away from business. <strong>The</strong>y constantly<br />

have to call in or be called. O<strong>the</strong>rwise, <strong>the</strong>y feel<br />

worthless. All of <strong>the</strong> cell phones and PDAs and<br />

such have only made <strong>the</strong> situation worse. In my<br />

world, if <strong>the</strong> business burns down, so be it. <strong>The</strong>re<br />

really is not much I can do about it. Besides, I<br />

trust that <strong>the</strong> people I have put in charge would<br />

make <strong>the</strong> best possible decisions in such circumstances.<br />

So worrying about it is a waste of time.<br />

EJ: It sounds as though you might be a bit “antitechnology.”<br />

YC: Perhaps. I think in so many areas, technology<br />

has replaced craft. No one has <strong>the</strong> time or bo<strong>the</strong>rs<br />

to take <strong>the</strong> time to learn a craft so <strong>the</strong>y replace<br />

technique with equipment. We have a huge problem<br />

in America, namely <strong>the</strong> emasculation of <strong>the</strong><br />

American male, who is forced to buy cars he can<br />

no longer fix. <strong>The</strong>ir confidence and self-esteem<br />

become all wrapped up in all <strong>the</strong> gear <strong>the</strong>y have<br />

on display. <strong>The</strong>y go fly-fishing with a $1,200 fly<br />

rod to catch a 12-inch trout, which works out to<br />

about $100/inch. We’ve all seen <strong>the</strong> guy on <strong>the</strong><br />

tennis court who, after a series of missed shots,<br />

shoots off some blasphemies and <strong>the</strong>n pulls out<br />

ano<strong>the</strong>r racket with different weight and tension<br />

as if that was <strong>the</strong> problem all along. Same thing<br />

goes for skis and climbing gear.<br />

EJ: That seems like a ra<strong>the</strong>r odd set of comments<br />

from a leading outdoor gear manufacturer.<br />

YC: Again, this gets back to craft. If you know your<br />

craft, having excellent gear can only help refine it.<br />

My point here is that without an underlying skill<br />

set, <strong>the</strong> best gear in <strong>the</strong> world is useless.<br />

EJ: In this issue we have brought toge<strong>the</strong>r several<br />

Everest legends to discuss <strong>the</strong> risk of climbing <strong>the</strong><br />

world’s tallest mountain. Have you attempted to<br />

climb this formidable peak<br />

YC: No and I never wanted to. For me, Everest<br />

today is in many ways symbolic of everything that<br />

is wrong with adventure. Everything is taken care<br />

of for you. Wea<strong>the</strong>r reporting comes from a guy in<br />

Austria, while ropes and ladders are put in place<br />

by <strong>the</strong> Sherpas, who push and pull you to <strong>the</strong> top.<br />

It’s a lot like being chauffeured around New York or<br />

London. Your mind is disengaged. <strong>The</strong>re is a loss<br />

of awareness of <strong>the</strong> wea<strong>the</strong>r, <strong>the</strong> actual conditions<br />

on <strong>the</strong> mountain, your fellow climbers.<br />

Most on <strong>the</strong> hill today are not able to make<br />

wea<strong>the</strong>r decisions on <strong>the</strong>ir own or set <strong>the</strong>ir own<br />

ladders, or even put up a tent once camp had<br />

been reached, much less prepare <strong>the</strong> expected<br />

cup of tea. To do this on one’s own would require<br />

far more conditioning, skill, endurance, and mental<br />

fortitude; for a modest price it can be farmed<br />

out to o<strong>the</strong>rs. Most climbers who summit Everest<br />

today wouldn’t even know where to begin if <strong>the</strong>y<br />

had to do it on <strong>the</strong>ir own. In my view, <strong>the</strong> adventure<br />

travel guides who take you <strong>the</strong>re tend to be a<br />

bunch of enablers and manservants who are <strong>the</strong>re<br />

to guarantee that you do not have an adventure.<br />

For some, I suppose simply putting one foot in<br />

front of <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r is a challenge in itself. <strong>The</strong> whole<br />

purpose of an adventure is to gain some spiritual<br />

or emotional insight. When you compromise <strong>the</strong><br />

process, you compromise <strong>the</strong> gain.<br />

EJ: As <strong>explorers</strong>, do you feel that we have a<br />

greater environmental responsibility than <strong>the</strong><br />

average citizen<br />

32


Yvon Chouinard between fishing sessions on <strong>the</strong> Gaula River, Norway. Photograph by Bill Klyn.<br />

YC: As people who tend to depend on <strong>the</strong> natural<br />

world for fulfillment, I think we have a greater responsibility<br />

with regard to <strong>the</strong> environment and <strong>the</strong><br />

condition of our planet. Most people tend to look<br />

at wildlife as some remote thing, forgetting that<br />

we too are large mammals and part of <strong>the</strong> food<br />

chain. As <strong>explorers</strong>, we have <strong>the</strong> luxury of seeing<br />

firsthand what is going on in <strong>the</strong> world ra<strong>the</strong>r than<br />

just hearing about it on <strong>the</strong> news.<br />

I also think, as humans, we need to remain in<br />

yarak, a falconry term that means “super alert,”<br />

and, in <strong>the</strong> case of birds of prey, “ready to hunt.” It<br />

all comes down to having a heightened sense of<br />

awareness, environmental awareness, awareness<br />

of our personal impact on <strong>the</strong> planet and those<br />

with whom we share it.<br />

Unfortunately, saving <strong>the</strong> planet ranks nineteenth<br />

on <strong>the</strong> list of most pressing needs for most<br />

Americans, well behind things such as resolving<br />

<strong>the</strong> Mid-East conflict, fighting world hunger, and<br />

providing healthcare. Unfortunately, none of <strong>the</strong><br />

18 “more important” items on <strong>the</strong> list can be done<br />

with out saving <strong>the</strong> planet first.<br />

EJ: If you had three bits of advice to impart to your<br />

fellow <strong>explorers</strong>, what would <strong>the</strong>y be<br />

YC: One, learn a craft that requires using your<br />

hands, and learn it well. If you can work with your<br />

hands you will never be helpless.<br />

Two, become aware of your world, not just <strong>the</strong><br />

immediate surroundings but also <strong>the</strong> wider world<br />

around you—o<strong>the</strong>r peoples, cultures, and environments.<br />

In short, find out what is really going<br />

on on this planet. Edward O. Wilson and o<strong>the</strong>rs<br />

have predicted that <strong>the</strong> end is near—that we are<br />

doomed to compete with each o<strong>the</strong>r in resource<br />

wars for <strong>the</strong> last drop of oil or potable water or <strong>the</strong><br />

last patch of topsoil to till. Prepare yourself not to<br />

be a casualty. It could get nasty. I would like to be<br />

more optimistic, but we really are out of time. In my<br />

own way, I have done little things, like drink from<br />

nearly every trout stream I fish, knowing I have a<br />

wider range of acceptability in <strong>the</strong> “potable” water<br />

category than most.<br />

Three, do something. If you have money, support<br />

people carrying out research or working to clean<br />

up <strong>the</strong> environment. Volunteer your time. Be a part<br />

of <strong>the</strong> solution, not <strong>the</strong> problem. You will save your<br />

soul that way. As I have said before, <strong>the</strong>re is little<br />

business to be done on a dead planet.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


RISK VI<br />

<strong>The</strong> Risk and Reward of<br />

Everest<br />

in conversation with those who<br />

know <strong>the</strong> mountain best<br />

This past winter, an international team of experts in<br />

medicine, physiology, and meteorology examined all of<br />

<strong>the</strong> known deaths on Everest, reporting <strong>the</strong> results<br />

of <strong>the</strong>ir study in <strong>the</strong> online edition of <strong>the</strong> British<br />

Medical Journal. <strong>The</strong> team’s findings (see page 39) have<br />

shattered commonly held notions about what leads to<br />

deaths on <strong>the</strong> mountain. While many believe those who<br />

perish on <strong>the</strong> 8,850 meter (29,035 foot) peak tend to do<br />

so because of avalanches, falling ice, and pulmonary<br />

edema, <strong>the</strong> study has pinpointed <strong>the</strong> most critical factors<br />

in climber death, noting that severe deterioration<br />

in wea<strong>the</strong>r and late starts have played far more<br />

important roles than previously thought.<br />

34<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong> brought toge<strong>the</strong>r six<br />

Everest luminaries to weigh in on <strong>the</strong> recent findings<br />

and share <strong>the</strong>ir thoughts on climbing <strong>the</strong> world’s<br />

highest mountain. Joining us in <strong>the</strong> discussion are<br />

Apa Sherpa, who, in May, summited Everest for <strong>the</strong><br />

nineteenth time; Pete Athans, who has summited seven<br />

times; Peter Hillary, <strong>the</strong> son of Sir Edmund Hillary and<br />

a noted climber in his own right; Kenneth M. Kamler,<br />

whose medical expertise has saved numerous lives on<br />

Everest; astronaut and physician Scot t Par a z ynski, who<br />

summited this past spring; and renowned big mountain<br />

guide Jim Williams, who, after numerous expeditions to<br />

<strong>the</strong> big E, stood atop <strong>the</strong> roof of <strong>the</strong> world in 2000.<br />

Everest, Lhotse, Nuptse as seen from Camp I on Pumori at 19,100 feet. Photograph by Scott Parazynski.


EJ: For you personally, what has been <strong>the</strong> greatest allure of<br />

Everest<br />

Peter Hillary (PH): All of our circumstances are<br />

so different and consequently so are <strong>the</strong> incentives<br />

and rationales for climbing. I assume for<br />

Apa it is his career, although I know he loves<br />

being up <strong>the</strong>re and it was great that his first<br />

ascent was made as a member of our expedition<br />

19 years ago. I have heard similar comments<br />

from Jamling Tenzing about his fa<strong>the</strong>r, Tenzing<br />

Norgay’s rationale for ascending into <strong>the</strong> “death<br />

zone.” For o<strong>the</strong>rs, perhaps it makes all <strong>the</strong> toil of<br />

our professional careers worth it so that we get<br />

<strong>the</strong> Everest opportunity.<br />

I became <strong>the</strong> first second-generation Everester<br />

to tag <strong>the</strong> top back in 1990, and, given that my<br />

fa<strong>the</strong>r and Tenzing were <strong>the</strong> first to summit <strong>the</strong><br />

mountain in 1953, that success has been amplified.<br />

I know many people think that someone like<br />

Brent Bishop or myself may well be carrying out<br />

some family edict ra<strong>the</strong>r than being passionately<br />

drawn to <strong>the</strong> mountaineering experience for its<br />

own sake. But <strong>the</strong> reality is I have been climbing<br />

all my life. I climbed McKinley last year, Kilimanjaro<br />

a few weeks back with my daughter, and plan to<br />

climb Mt. Cook in <strong>the</strong> Sou<strong>the</strong>rn Alps. And let’s<br />

face it, no one is surprised that medical families<br />

produce more doctors and business families more<br />

business types. <strong>The</strong> mountaineering influence is<br />

transgenerational as well.<br />

Apa Sherpa (AS): Ironically, summiting Everest<br />

was never a personal goal for me. My fa<strong>the</strong>r died<br />

when I was 12, leaving me and my family to fend<br />

for ourselves. In 1988, I was able to find work as<br />

an expedition porter to earn money to support<br />

my family. It turns out I really took to <strong>the</strong> mountain.<br />

But <strong>the</strong>n again, I come from Thame, Tenzing<br />

Norgay’s hometown, so perhaps it is only natural<br />

that climbing is in my blood and that I thrive in an<br />

exhilarating high-altitude environment.<br />

Ken Kamler (KK): <strong>The</strong> first time I saw Everest it<br />

was like seeing a famous movie star. Everest is<br />

not <strong>the</strong> hardest mountain in <strong>the</strong> world to climb<br />

nor is it <strong>the</strong> most beautiful, but it’s <strong>the</strong> one<br />

surrounded by <strong>the</strong> most legend and <strong>the</strong> most<br />

symbolism. “Climbing Everest” has become<br />

synonymous with taking on any difficult, nearly<br />

impossible, challenge. <strong>The</strong> greatest discovery an<br />

explorer can make is to find those unexpected<br />

strengths we all have within ourselves.<br />

Jim Williams (JW): As a young person in <strong>the</strong> 1960s,<br />

I read about <strong>the</strong> American West Ridge climb of<br />

Mt. Everest and was above all intrigued by <strong>the</strong><br />

Sherpas. I was taken by <strong>the</strong>ir culture and work<br />

ethic. I always wanted to be like a Sherpa in <strong>the</strong><br />

mountains…<strong>the</strong> most trusted person in <strong>the</strong> background…<strong>the</strong><br />

one who had an intimate knowledge<br />

of <strong>the</strong> mountain environment. As for making <strong>the</strong><br />

summit—<strong>the</strong> reason after a while is not to make <strong>the</strong><br />

“summit” for any o<strong>the</strong>r reason than to end <strong>the</strong> discussion<br />

of “Have you climbed Everest” O<strong>the</strong>rs in<br />

<strong>the</strong> mountaineering business with less experience<br />

and skill have “summited” and are given credit<br />

beyond yours if you have not “summited” Everest.<br />

Unfortunately, standing on <strong>the</strong> summit is not nearly<br />

as rewarding as <strong>the</strong> years spent in <strong>the</strong> process of<br />

climbing with Sherpas and o<strong>the</strong>rs on <strong>the</strong> mountain<br />

in <strong>the</strong>ir backyard; learning respect and life lessons<br />

for some honest and hard-working folks.<br />

Pete Athans (PA): No o<strong>the</strong>r mountain has this<br />

powerful or as deep an allure—an allure, which,<br />

for <strong>the</strong> most part, is a combination of awe, challenge,<br />

and curiosity. With its high altitude and<br />

technical challenge of rock, snow, and ice, it is<br />

a natural attraction for mountaineers. It is also a<br />

symbol for greater personal achievement and<br />

self-actualization. <strong>The</strong> allure of Everest is fur<strong>the</strong>r<br />

amplified by <strong>the</strong> mountain’s sacred nature for <strong>the</strong><br />

people of Nepal—<strong>the</strong> Sherpas especially.<br />

Scott Parazynski (SP): <strong>The</strong> adventure and audacity<br />

of Hillary and Norgay’s successful first ascent, amplified<br />

by my imagination after reading many different<br />

accounts of <strong>the</strong>ir climb (and almost every o<strong>the</strong>r<br />

climb I could find in print), captured me at an early<br />

age. I’ve been climbing in earnest since I was 15,<br />

gradually increasing <strong>the</strong> difficulty and commitment<br />

associated with each peak. I began rock scrambling<br />

on crags in Greece during my high-school years,<br />

followed by more substantial rock in California and<br />

Colorado, and eventually moved into snow and ice<br />

in North and South America. <strong>The</strong> Himalayas, and<br />

Everest in particular, are <strong>the</strong> ultimate test piece.<br />

Many people assume that someone who flies<br />

in space, flies aircraft, rides a luge, dives under<br />

<strong>the</strong> sea, or climbs big mountains is a risk taker or<br />

daredevil. Although my vocation and hobbies are<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


A s c e n t t h r o u g h t h e i c e f a l l<br />

Climbers enter <strong>the</strong> lower reaches of <strong>the</strong> treacherous Khumbu<br />

Icefall, one of <strong>the</strong> most dangerous stretches of <strong>the</strong> Everest climb<br />

from <strong>the</strong> Nepali side. Photograph by Scott Parazynski.


a bit outside <strong>the</strong> norm, I am extremely respectful<br />

of risk. I study, train, and prepare for risks in <strong>the</strong><br />

environments I visit, and manage <strong>the</strong>m carefully.<br />

With respect to Everest, I took a very measured<br />

approach to <strong>the</strong> mountain, only considering it after<br />

many years of “apprenticeship” on lesser mountains<br />

of <strong>the</strong> world. You need to make your mistakes<br />

on lower, more forgiving peaks before taking on<br />

<strong>the</strong> Big E. I knew from prior climbs that I had <strong>the</strong><br />

wherewithal to turn back from a coveted summit<br />

100 meters from <strong>the</strong> top when bad wea<strong>the</strong>r set in,<br />

and that I had <strong>the</strong> technical skills to take care of<br />

my teammates and myself if <strong>the</strong> going got tough.<br />

Unfortunately, many Everest aspirants fast-track<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir way to <strong>the</strong> mountain, and run into serious<br />

difficulties because <strong>the</strong>y haven’t been tested<br />

before.<br />

EJ: Are you aware of <strong>the</strong> risks posed by <strong>the</strong> peak and <strong>the</strong><br />

number of deaths on <strong>the</strong> mountain<br />

KK: I’ve been to Everest six times and each time,<br />

people have died <strong>the</strong>re. I’m a cautious climber,<br />

well aware of <strong>the</strong> risk of Everest and of <strong>the</strong> “sport”<br />

of mountain climbing in general. <strong>The</strong> risk is part<br />

of <strong>the</strong> attraction—not in any thrill-seeking way but<br />

ra<strong>the</strong>r as a way to test yourself. You need to be in<br />

control, totally focused and concentrated, and <strong>the</strong><br />

results of your efforts are evident immediately.<br />

PA: Having completed 16 expeditions and having<br />

summited seven times, I think I have a succinct<br />

understanding of <strong>the</strong> inherent risks.<br />

AS: I have to say that when I read <strong>the</strong> British<br />

Medical Journal report, I was not at all surprised<br />

by <strong>the</strong> disproportionate number of Sherpa deaths<br />

on <strong>the</strong> lower reaches of <strong>the</strong> mountain, particularly<br />

in <strong>the</strong> Khumbu Icefall, one of <strong>the</strong> most dangerous<br />

parts of <strong>the</strong> Everest climb. Sherpas tend to make<br />

four to five times as many traverses through this<br />

deadly zone as <strong>the</strong> climbers who hire <strong>the</strong>m for<br />

an expedition. <strong>The</strong>y have to set <strong>the</strong> ladders and<br />

ropes and transport <strong>the</strong> heavy loads of equipment<br />

needed for <strong>the</strong> higher camps. Western climbers<br />

might go through <strong>the</strong> icefall four or five times for<br />

acclimatization purposes. A Sherpa’s risk on an<br />

individual traverse through <strong>the</strong> Khumbu is probably<br />

lower than <strong>the</strong> average climber, but <strong>the</strong> 15 to<br />

20 passes <strong>the</strong>y must make through <strong>the</strong> icefall during<br />

an expedition increase that risk severalfold.<br />

JW: To be honest, mountain climbing is unsafe.<br />

<strong>The</strong>re is nothing you can do to make it safe. What<br />

you can do, however, is learn <strong>the</strong> skills necessary<br />

to reduce <strong>the</strong> risk to an acceptable level and to<br />

mitigate disaster by being prepared for <strong>the</strong> unexpected<br />

things that happen in <strong>the</strong> mountains. I<br />

believe <strong>the</strong> fascination with death on Everest is<br />

because it is “sexy” to discuss death as a function<br />

of risk on <strong>the</strong> world’s highest mountain.<br />

SP: I’ve tracked <strong>the</strong> stats on Everest for many<br />

years via Liz Hawley’s reporting, and more recently<br />

online via <strong>the</strong> AAC and British Medical<br />

Journal articles. <strong>The</strong> risk of death after summiting<br />

has been shown to be roughly equivalent to that<br />

of perishing on a Space Shuttle flight. Attempting<br />

to summit without supplemental oxygen increases<br />

<strong>the</strong> odds substantially, so I never considered<br />

doing it without O2.<br />

EJ: In looking at <strong>the</strong> statistics, do you believe you may not be<br />

at as great a risk as o<strong>the</strong>r climbers because you are better<br />

prepared to deal with such danger and risk<br />

JW: Most of those who die after summiting die as<br />

a result of poor leadership, poor preparedness, or<br />

abandonment of good decision-making. Everest<br />

has become a test piece for fitness and determination<br />

ra<strong>the</strong>r than <strong>the</strong> culmination of years and years<br />

of solid mountaineering training. This is to a large<br />

degree <strong>the</strong> result of guiding on Everest, but one<br />

must remember that guides only provide a service<br />

that a certain part of <strong>the</strong> population requests. I<br />

believe as a well-trained guide you should not be<br />

sucked into <strong>the</strong> “summit at all cost” mentality. I<br />

often ask my clients to think about this one question:<br />

“Would you be here climbing on Everest if you<br />

could not return home and share it with o<strong>the</strong>rs”<br />

SP: I think it’s most important to be humble before<br />

<strong>the</strong> mountain, meaning you need to check your<br />

ego at <strong>the</strong> base of <strong>the</strong> Khumbu Glacier. Both of<br />

my seasons on Everest, I had trained to <strong>the</strong> limit of<br />

my physical ability, and with my background as an<br />

astronaut, I had refined my ability to manage risk<br />

and make good decisions under pressure—even<br />

if it sometimes meant failing to attain my goals. I<br />

didn’t ever think I was beyond danger or risk, or<br />

that I was somehow a better or stronger climber<br />

than o<strong>the</strong>rs, but I did believe that I’d be able to<br />

identify if and when it was time to turn back.<br />

38


PA: No one eliminates risk on Everest, although<br />

excellent preparation and knowledge do assist<br />

in mitigating many of <strong>the</strong> risks. Some of <strong>the</strong> more<br />

capable mountaineers and guides on Everest<br />

have perished for a variety of reasons and some<br />

of <strong>the</strong> least experienced climbers ever to go to <strong>the</strong><br />

Himalaya have climbed Everest unsca<strong>the</strong>d. I’ve<br />

been fortunate in that I am innately a conservative<br />

climber and I implicitly trust <strong>the</strong> Sherpas with<br />

whom I work, plus I have great patience.<br />

EJ: What do you look for in fellow teammates—in terms of<br />

overall fitness, psychological makeup, and training Who in<br />

your estimation is <strong>the</strong> ideal person for <strong>the</strong> peak And, who<br />

should stay far far away from it<br />

KK: Although I’ve never led an Everest expedition—<br />

I’ve had enough to do just taking care of my medical<br />

responsibilities—I do have input in evaluating<br />

potential climbers. <strong>The</strong> people who do best on <strong>the</strong><br />

peak are those who early on show a willingness<br />

to work hard and remain cheerful, carry an extra<br />

load without looking for recognition, and don’t<br />

complain when <strong>the</strong> going starts to get rough. As<br />

for training, one should be in <strong>the</strong> best shape of<br />

one’s life. No one comes down from Everest saying<br />

it was easier than <strong>the</strong>y thought.<br />

JW: As a guide on Everest, I am concerned about<br />

<strong>the</strong> motivation of <strong>the</strong> team members. If <strong>the</strong> motivation<br />

is “summit at all costs,” I am less interested<br />

in having that person on my team. I am also less<br />

interested in those who are looking for <strong>the</strong> “best<br />

budget deal.” Climbing Everest should not be<br />

bound by unattainable goals and budget constraints<br />

that affect <strong>the</strong> way one approaches <strong>the</strong><br />

project.<br />

SP: While I didn’t lead my two expeditions on<br />

Everest—I climbed with a personal Sherpa but<br />

without a guide—I have led a number of expeditions<br />

to o<strong>the</strong>r parts of <strong>the</strong> world. Moreover, working off<br />

<strong>the</strong> planet in confined spaces, I have a pretty good<br />

feel for <strong>the</strong> types of people who can thrive as team<br />

members in extreme environments. Having a good<br />

sense of humor, a ready willingness to pitch in and<br />

help, road-tested judgment, and technical competence<br />

are <strong>the</strong> top four things I look for in climbing<br />

partners. You can be <strong>the</strong> most fit climber-athlete<br />

in <strong>the</strong> world, but if you are lacking in any of <strong>the</strong>se<br />

categories, no one will want to tie in with you.<br />

Death on Everest<br />

<strong>the</strong> cold, hard facts<br />

An international team of experts, led by Paul Firth<br />

of Massachusetts General Hospital, has examined<br />

known deaths on <strong>the</strong> world’s tallest mountain.<br />

<strong>The</strong>ir study—published in <strong>the</strong> online edition of <strong>the</strong><br />

British Medical Journal—sheds some light on what<br />

makes Everest among <strong>the</strong> most dangerous places<br />

on Earth. Of <strong>the</strong> 14,138 mountaineers (8,030<br />

climbers and 6,108 Sherpas) who have participated<br />

in expeditions on Everest between 1921 and 2006,<br />

3,058 have made it to <strong>the</strong> summit; 212 have died.<br />

· <strong>The</strong> mortality rate above basecamp on Everest<br />

was 1.3%. This is significantly higher than <strong>the</strong><br />

death rate on mountains attempted by similar<br />

populations of climbers, including <strong>the</strong> Himalayan<br />

peaks of Ama Dablam (6,814 m) and Cho Oyo<br />

(8,201 m), which have respective death rates of<br />

0.46% and 0.64%. <strong>The</strong> death rate among climbers<br />

on Denali (6,194 m) in Alaska is 0.03% and<br />

0.02% for Rainier (4,392 m) in Washington.<br />

· For deaths above 8,000 meters, cognitive<br />

impairment and ataxia or cerebral edema were<br />

often present where pulmonary edema was not.<br />

· Marked fatigue, late summit times, and <strong>the</strong><br />

tendency to fall behind companions are common<br />

among nonsurvivors.<br />

· <strong>The</strong> death rate among foreign climbers is higher<br />

than among Sherpas. Sherpas tend to die on <strong>the</strong> lower<br />

slopes, particularly in <strong>the</strong> region of <strong>the</strong> Khumbu<br />

Icefall. Most foreign climbers die above 8,000 meters,<br />

usually during descent from <strong>the</strong> summit.<br />

· A typical expedition to Everest lasts a minimum of<br />

60 days, but more than 80% of climber deaths occur<br />

<strong>the</strong> day of <strong>the</strong> summit bid or shortly <strong>the</strong>reafter.<br />

· Severe deterioration in <strong>the</strong> wea<strong>the</strong>r played a role<br />

in 25% of all deaths.<br />

<strong>The</strong> team, which included researchers from<br />

Britain, Canada, and <strong>the</strong> United States, hopes<br />

that <strong>the</strong>ir findings will provide a foundation for<br />

improved safety, for both mountaineers and<br />

Sherpas. A copy of <strong>the</strong> full report can be downloaded<br />

from our website at www.<strong>explorers</strong>.org.<br />

For more information, contact Kent Moore of <strong>the</strong><br />

University of Toronto, a co-author of <strong>the</strong> paper,<br />

at gwk.moore@utoronto.ca.<br />

—AMHS with additional reporting from Jeff Blumenfeld<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


Topping out in <strong>the</strong> Khumbu<br />

Climbers close in on Camp I at <strong>the</strong> top of <strong>the</strong> Khumbu Icefall on <strong>the</strong><br />

South Col route to <strong>the</strong> summit. Photograph by Scott Parazynski.


AS: <strong>The</strong> expeditions that hire me tend to make <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

own selections in terms of team makeup. Having<br />

been on <strong>the</strong> mountain for as long as I have, however,<br />

I can tell just by watching climbers on <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

first pass through <strong>the</strong> Khumbu who has what it<br />

takes to succeed and who will likely fail based on<br />

how <strong>the</strong>y negotiate <strong>the</strong> cravasses and constantly<br />

shifting ice. I can also tell you that weaker climbers<br />

definitely increase <strong>the</strong> overall level of risk to<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir fellow team members.<br />

PA: Sometimes what makes <strong>the</strong> most successful<br />

businessman, doctor, or attorney, does not always<br />

equate to being a successful mountaineer. People<br />

with Type A behavioral traits are often frustrated in<br />

<strong>the</strong> high-mountain environment<br />

where factors<br />

beyond one’s immediate<br />

control can preclude<br />

success. Anyone who<br />

doesn’t have <strong>the</strong> presence<br />

of mind to walk<br />

away from a summit<br />

day that is inopportune<br />

should not attempt <strong>the</strong><br />

peak.<br />

EJ: Do you believe most people attempting Everest have an<br />

unrealistic expectation of making <strong>the</strong> summit<br />

AS: I do think people come to <strong>the</strong> mountain believing<br />

climbing Everest is easier than it is. I have<br />

turned back several times. In 1989, I was on an<br />

expedition with Gary Ball, Rob Hall, and Phinjo<br />

Sherpa. We got up to Camp 4 at 26,000 feet<br />

when Rob began having stomach problems.<br />

Pressing on made no sense so we turned back.<br />

I also turned back in 2001 during an expedition<br />

with a Japanese team, <strong>the</strong> members of which<br />

were all over 55. <strong>The</strong>y were not physically able to<br />

go beyond Camp III. I could have told <strong>the</strong>m that<br />

fur<strong>the</strong>r down below.<br />

JW: As leaders of an expedition, it is up to <strong>the</strong> guides<br />

to ensure that members of <strong>the</strong> team have realistic<br />

goals and expectations. In 1995, we had reached<br />

high above <strong>the</strong> Balcony on a glorious “summit day”<br />

in very deep snow, which slowed our progress. We<br />

realized that we would be unable to summit and<br />

return safely, so we turned <strong>the</strong> entire team around<br />

at 9:00 a.m. It was a great disappointment to us all<br />

42<br />

but all realized it was <strong>the</strong> correct decision in light of<br />

<strong>the</strong> conditions and <strong>the</strong> amount of available oxygen.<br />

<strong>The</strong>re was no need to high point.<br />

SP: Most of <strong>the</strong> climbing team members I’ve shared<br />

Everest with had a reasonable chance of making it<br />

to <strong>the</strong> top. But I was appalled to see a “climber” on<br />

ano<strong>the</strong>r team, descending <strong>the</strong> Khumbu Icefall, who<br />

had to be coached on rappelling, one of <strong>the</strong> most<br />

fundamental of mountaineering skills. On both<br />

my seasons on Everest <strong>the</strong>re were climbers who<br />

successfully summited, but <strong>the</strong>n failed to descend<br />

because of exhaustion. Obviously this is a far cry<br />

from success. You absolutely have to keep enough<br />

gas in <strong>the</strong> tank to make a round trip!<br />

EJ: Both 1996 and 2006<br />

were particularly deadly<br />

years on <strong>the</strong> peak. Were <strong>the</strong><br />

well-publicized incidents on<br />

<strong>the</strong> mountain those years a<br />

matter of chance, accidents<br />

waiting to happen, or <strong>the</strong><br />

result of unusual circumstances,<br />

or were <strong>the</strong>re risks<br />

taken in those years that<br />

were some how atypical<br />

PA: All <strong>the</strong> above. Given <strong>the</strong> competitive nature<br />

of <strong>the</strong> commercial activities on Everest and <strong>the</strong><br />

increase in sheer numbers of teams approved to<br />

climb, it is easy to argue that <strong>the</strong> accident was<br />

imminent. Although <strong>the</strong> storm appeared violently,<br />

such storms are not unusual on this mountain.<br />

Everything went well until summit day and, when<br />

<strong>the</strong> summit was within sight, <strong>the</strong> collective wisdom<br />

of generations of Everest climbers had little or no<br />

value. In <strong>the</strong> case of Rob Hall’s team, Doug Hansen<br />

was simply obsessed and chose not to observe <strong>the</strong><br />

guidelines to which previously he had agreed. I’ll<br />

never understand why Rob chose to follow Hansen,<br />

with <strong>the</strong> rest of a weak team to manage in descent,<br />

to say nothing of <strong>the</strong> imminent birth of his daughter.<br />

What could one more summit have meant to<br />

someone who had already climbed it 5 times This<br />

strikes me as “atypical.” Had I been in Rob’s shoes,<br />

I would have let Hansen go and brought <strong>the</strong> rest of<br />

my team to <strong>the</strong> South Col. This one decision would<br />

have saved probably 4 lives. Scott Fisher should<br />

not have climbed that day. <strong>The</strong> effects of altitude<br />

were cumulative and his performance lagged that<br />

a warning sign outside Kunde Hospital. Photograph by Scott Parazynski.


of everyone else as a result. Everyone in his team<br />

managed to make it down safely, thanks to Neil<br />

Beidleman and ‘Toly Boukreev. Scott’s death was<br />

senseless and entirely avoidable. To this day, it is<br />

difficult to accept it happened.<br />

KK: On both my ‘95 and ‘96 summit bids, Rob Hall<br />

and his team were one day ahead of us. In ‘95,<br />

Rob came down without summiting, having turned<br />

around because, as he put it, “It was a bit of a<br />

hard go.” My team and I made an attempt but also<br />

turned around, just 900 vertical feet below <strong>the</strong><br />

summit. <strong>The</strong> following year, ‘96, we were all back<br />

at it. Jim Williams and I were in a tent at 24,000<br />

feet as we listened on our radios for news of Rob’s<br />

summit team above us. Summit attempts always<br />

have turnaround times but it seemed that day that<br />

many of <strong>the</strong> climbers were behind schedule and<br />

summiting late. When you’re close to <strong>the</strong> summit<br />

<strong>the</strong>re’s a very strong upward pull that leads climbers<br />

to cut <strong>the</strong>ir safety margins thinner and thinner.<br />

Sometimes you can get away with it but sometimes<br />

you can’t—like when a violent storm suddenly rolls<br />

in. In retrospect, of course, <strong>the</strong>y should have turned<br />

around sooner, as we all did <strong>the</strong> year before. I often<br />

think that had we not done so <strong>the</strong>n, <strong>the</strong> disaster<br />

would have been in ‘95 ra<strong>the</strong>r than ‘96.<br />

AS: Rob Hall had invited me to be part of his 1996<br />

Everest team but my wife, Yangji, asked if I would<br />

stay home that season and build <strong>the</strong> house I had<br />

promised her. I truly believe my wife and God saved<br />

my life that year, <strong>the</strong> only year I wasn’t on Everest.<br />

JW: In 1996, in my opinion, <strong>the</strong> issue was competition.<br />

<strong>The</strong> problems that developed were <strong>the</strong> result<br />

of expedition leaders making business decisions<br />

before making solid mountaineering/guiding decisions.<br />

<strong>The</strong> two main players in 1996 believed that<br />

<strong>the</strong>y had a great deal to gain by getting various<br />

celebrities to <strong>the</strong> summit. <strong>The</strong>y focused on achieving<br />

those objectives and forgot that <strong>the</strong>ir first<br />

responsibility was to all <strong>the</strong>ir members and to <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

own well-being. In <strong>the</strong> end <strong>the</strong>se decision tracks<br />

lead to <strong>the</strong>ir own demise. <strong>The</strong> storm and wea<strong>the</strong>r,<br />

although bad, were not unusual or unexpected. I<br />

do not know much about <strong>the</strong> 2006 year. I suspect,<br />

however, that <strong>the</strong> conditions in 2006 were not unexpected<br />

by those with many years of experience<br />

on Everest. I think at <strong>the</strong> ‘96 disaster decade mark,<br />

<strong>the</strong> media was looking for a story on Everest and<br />

eventually found one in <strong>the</strong> poor choices being<br />

made by a few misguided individuals constrained<br />

by budgets and self-imposed rules, which all led<br />

to a well-publicized turn of events.<br />

SP: I think ’96 was a significant catalyst for change<br />

on <strong>the</strong> south side of Everest. A more global acceptance<br />

of having and adhering to a turnaround<br />

time, earlier departures from high camp, generally<br />

better screening of guided clients, and a team approach<br />

to fixing <strong>the</strong> route before <strong>the</strong> big wave of<br />

climbers attempt to summit has improved success<br />

and safety on <strong>the</strong> mountain. Satellite internet access<br />

to better wea<strong>the</strong>r forecasting has also been<br />

a factor, but <strong>the</strong> overall risk remains. <strong>The</strong>re will<br />

always be people willing to take on Everest, and—<br />

unfortunately—<strong>the</strong>re will continue to be deaths in<br />

<strong>the</strong> endeavor.<br />

EJ: Ken and Scott, as doctors who have dealt with injuries<br />

on Everest, what do you believe would increase <strong>the</strong> survival<br />

rate those climbing<br />

KK: <strong>The</strong>re’s a saying in mountaineering: “<strong>The</strong>re<br />

are old climbers and <strong>the</strong>re are bold climbers, but<br />

<strong>the</strong>re are no old, bold climbers.” <strong>The</strong> more cautious<br />

you are, <strong>the</strong> more likely you are to survive,<br />

but <strong>the</strong> less likely you are to summit. As a doctor,<br />

I’m constantly observing my teammates for early<br />

signs of medical problems, especially fatigue and<br />

breathing difficulties, but if I sent down every<br />

climber who was tired or coughing, no one would<br />

ever climb Everest. Risk and reward must be balanced.<br />

We have to always remember how much<br />

more we have waiting for us below than we have<br />

at <strong>the</strong> summit.<br />

SP: I think better preparation, both technically and<br />

extending over a greater length of time, would<br />

increase <strong>the</strong> odds of success as well as reduce<br />

<strong>the</strong> mortality on Everest. Climbing gear has improved<br />

dramatically since 1953, but technology<br />

can only protect a climber so far. Ultimately, skill,<br />

physical conditioning, and well-honed decision<br />

making are required to make a safe round trip to<br />

<strong>the</strong> summit.<br />

In <strong>the</strong> space business, we often say, “train like<br />

you fly, and fly like you train.” What this means in<br />

<strong>the</strong> context of Everest is that <strong>the</strong> more you can<br />

climb in snow and ice environments before you<br />

come to <strong>the</strong> Himalayas, <strong>the</strong> better your odds will<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


e. Being comfortable on steep snow and ice, as<br />

well as living on a glacier for weeks on end is best<br />

learned on o<strong>the</strong>r climbing expeditions—on Denali,<br />

Aconcagua, and o<strong>the</strong>r Himalayan peaks like Cho<br />

Oyo, which are excellent preparation for Everest.<br />

JW: Although I am not a doctor, I have dealt with<br />

a great number of medical emergencies on this<br />

and o<strong>the</strong>r mountains as well as some very remote<br />

areas in <strong>the</strong> world. <strong>The</strong> determining factor that I have<br />

come across that most influences <strong>the</strong> outcome of<br />

potentially serious medical problems is how prepared<br />

and knowledgeable <strong>the</strong> group is. <strong>The</strong>re is<br />

a new program, “Doctors on Everest,” which was<br />

launched to better prepare those attempting <strong>the</strong><br />

summit. Despite its good intentions, it is actually<br />

reducing <strong>the</strong> number of trained medical personnel<br />

on expeditions, who have been replaced by those<br />

with only <strong>the</strong> most basic first-aid training. This has<br />

fur<strong>the</strong>r eroded <strong>the</strong> depth of knowledge needed to<br />

climb Everest, thus weakening <strong>the</strong> overall experience<br />

of teams on <strong>the</strong> mountain.<br />

EJ: Scott, with your training as an astronaut, is <strong>the</strong>re anything<br />

you might want to add in terms of training for extreme<br />

environments Ken, you too might want to comment here.<br />

SP: <strong>The</strong>re are many corollaries between <strong>the</strong> spaceflight<br />

environment and high altitude mountaineering:<br />

living and working in a remote and often harsh<br />

environment, often with limited resources, and a<br />

small team. Margins for error are often slim, so participants<br />

must be extremely well trained. Gearing<br />

up for a summit push on an 8,000-meter peak is<br />

very similar to suiting up for a spacewalk. You’re<br />

wearing a full down suit, an oxygen mask, a backpack,<br />

and thick gloves in a very thin atmosphere,<br />

just like being outside a spacecraft. We use analog<br />

environments to prepare future flight crews<br />

for <strong>the</strong> rigors of spaceflight, including National<br />

Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) training in<br />

<strong>the</strong> Wind River Range and elsewhere. We often<br />

send crews to <strong>the</strong> Aquarius underwater habitat<br />

off <strong>the</strong> Florida Keys for saturation dives, and have<br />

also sent astronauts along with science teams<br />

to <strong>the</strong> Atacama and to Antarctica. Future space<br />

<strong>explorers</strong> on <strong>the</strong> Moon and Mars will benefit from<br />

living and conducting field research under <strong>the</strong>se<br />

difficult conditions.<br />

KK: <strong>The</strong> Aquarius missions are not physically<br />

44


<strong>the</strong> summit in sight<br />

From Camp III at 24,500 feet, <strong>the</strong> summit of Everest rises on <strong>the</strong><br />

far side of <strong>the</strong> Lhotse Face. Photograph by Scott Parazynski.


Apa Sherpa Scott Parazynski peter hillary<br />

demanding like Everest but <strong>the</strong>re are similarities in<br />

<strong>the</strong> mental demands. You have to work and think<br />

clearly in a hostile environment from which <strong>the</strong>re is<br />

no easy escape. If a problem develops, you have<br />

to solve it—you can’t just leave.<br />

EJ: What was your most frightening/challenging moment on<br />

Everest How did you respond to it<br />

PA: Effecting <strong>the</strong> rescue of Beck Wea<strong>the</strong>rs and<br />

Makalu Gau and dealing with issues well documented<br />

in Into Thin Air was both frightening and<br />

surreal. I worked to make <strong>the</strong>ir rescue a success<br />

as did so many o<strong>the</strong>rs at <strong>the</strong> time.<br />

KK: My most challenging moment on Everest<br />

was undoubtedly <strong>the</strong> ‘96 disaster. I was <strong>the</strong> only<br />

doctor high up on <strong>the</strong> mountain when <strong>the</strong> storm<br />

hit. It was my fourth trip to Everest and by <strong>the</strong>n<br />

I had spent a combined total of one year on <strong>the</strong><br />

mountain. I had seen deaths from all sorts of injuries<br />

and illnesses, but this was <strong>the</strong> first time my<br />

friends were injured and dying. I had to detach<br />

myself from any personal thoughts and just concentrate<br />

on being a doctor.<br />

I was at 24,000 feet with Jim Williams and<br />

we knew it would be hours before any survivors<br />

reached us. That gave me time to collect my<br />

thoughts—not easy to do at that altitude—and<br />

plan for every injury I thought I might see. We<br />

gave preliminary treatment to <strong>the</strong> survivors, <strong>the</strong>n<br />

Jim led me down to Camp 2, at 21,000 feet,<br />

where we set up a field hospital to provide more<br />

sustained treatment. It wasn’t until <strong>the</strong> most severely<br />

injured climbers were helicoptered out <strong>the</strong><br />

following day that my emotions came flooding<br />

forward and I allowed myself to realize I had lost<br />

some friends.<br />

AS: <strong>The</strong> first time I was ever on Everest it was difficult.<br />

I really wasn’t aware of <strong>the</strong> danger posed by<br />

<strong>the</strong> mountain. Simply, I wasn’t prepared.<br />

SP: <strong>The</strong> lowest point for me on Everest was May<br />

21, 2008. I was at Camp III (24,500 feet) when<br />

I had to abort my summit bid because of severe<br />

low back pain. Although I didn’t know I had<br />

ruptured a disc in my lumbar vertebrae, I knew<br />

that <strong>the</strong> summit in my plain view was not to be,<br />

and that I had an excruciating descent ahead of<br />

me. Thankfully, I had an unlimited supply of ice! I<br />

literally laid down every 20 or 30 minutes to ice<br />

my back on <strong>the</strong> way down <strong>the</strong> Lhotse Face and<br />

Western Cwm. On my summit this past spring,<br />

<strong>the</strong> blowing snow on <strong>the</strong> South Col and unconsolidated<br />

powder on <strong>the</strong> Triangular Face were<br />

demoralizing. To make matters worse, we had<br />

just a sliver Moon and our meager headlamps<br />

to illuminate <strong>the</strong> climb ahead. On a typical summit<br />

day, you can see your target, and judge your<br />

progress. During my ascent, it seemed that I was<br />

taking two steps up and one step back due to<br />

<strong>the</strong> powder on <strong>the</strong> steep slope. I’d ask Danuru,<br />

my friend and Sherpa sidekick, how much fur<strong>the</strong>r<br />

to <strong>the</strong> Balcony, and he would say, “We’re almost<br />

<strong>the</strong>re.” After hearing this four or five times, I began<br />

to lose confidence in his assessments! We were<br />

actually making exceptionally good time, but not<br />

knowing this, I considered turning around a few<br />

times. I persevered and we were able to see <strong>the</strong><br />

equivalent of an orbital sunrise from <strong>the</strong> summit!<br />

EJ: So is Everest really worth <strong>the</strong> risk ultimately<br />

KK: Climbing Everest reduces life to its essentials—food,<br />

water, and shelter. You live intensely<br />

and naturally. You plan your day according to <strong>the</strong><br />

46


Jim Williams Ken Kamler pete Athans<br />

wea<strong>the</strong>r, not according to <strong>the</strong> day of <strong>the</strong> week. It’s<br />

a more harmonious and satisfying way to live.<br />

JW: Frankly, it is not worth anything. No one cares<br />

in daily life if you have or have not climbed Everest.<br />

For me, <strong>the</strong> experiences and lessons learned while<br />

climbing with friends and Sherpas on Everest have<br />

made <strong>the</strong> entire experience worthwhile.<br />

SP: I consider my 30 minutes on top of Everest<br />

as one of <strong>the</strong> defining moments of my life. Not<br />

only was it <strong>the</strong> fulfillment of a boyhood dream, <strong>the</strong><br />

“delayed gratification” of summiting after <strong>the</strong> prior<br />

year’s failure was pure exhilaration.<br />

PA: Everest offers <strong>the</strong> opportunity to ascend not<br />

only a mountain of rock, snow, and ice, but to enter<br />

<strong>the</strong> landscape of myth and to plumb <strong>the</strong> depths<br />

and ironies of <strong>the</strong> human mind.<br />

AS: I think it is important that people realize<br />

Everest will always be <strong>the</strong>re and it is more important<br />

to keep all team members safe than to put<br />

people at risk. I never planned to set records. If<br />

I could have planned my life differently, I would<br />

gladly have given up <strong>the</strong> world records for a university<br />

education. If you must know, I would ra<strong>the</strong>r<br />

have been a doctor. I do think I have been able to<br />

help my people in some small way. My past three<br />

expeditions—including this year’s Eco Everest<br />

Expedition—have been carried out to benefit <strong>the</strong><br />

Sherpa people and highlight <strong>the</strong> threats global<br />

warming and environmental degradation pose<br />

for <strong>the</strong> Himalayan people. I think that if I can effect<br />

change for <strong>the</strong> better by raising awareness<br />

of <strong>the</strong> extraordinary yet fragile environment in<br />

which we live, it will certainly have been worth it<br />

for me and my people.<br />

PH: To push yourself to <strong>the</strong> edge and <strong>the</strong>n make<br />

it home again is life-changing stuff. Not just on<br />

Everest, but on any mountain. It’s not everybody’s<br />

cup of tea but for those of us who choose it, <strong>the</strong><br />

experience is hard to beat. Perhaps <strong>the</strong> best thing<br />

about climbing is <strong>the</strong> camaraderie, <strong>the</strong> intensity,<br />

<strong>the</strong> ‘“laughing at <strong>the</strong> storm that might kill you”<br />

feeling, that fleeting moment of living life to <strong>the</strong><br />

maximum, of being in an incredible o<strong>the</strong>r-worldly<br />

place that few o<strong>the</strong>rs will ever know.<br />

As <strong>the</strong> statistics show, Everest is a dangerous<br />

place for mortals. But while climbers line up<br />

now for positions on expeditions to <strong>the</strong> South<br />

Col and North Ridge routes, it is clear that not<br />

all Everest summits are equal. In <strong>the</strong> world of<br />

evaluations—and this is a world of evaluations—I<br />

would give my fa<strong>the</strong>r and Tenzing a score of ten<br />

out of ten for going where none had gone before<br />

and ten points to [Doug] Scott and [Dougal]<br />

Haston for <strong>the</strong>ir 1975 ascent via <strong>the</strong> South West<br />

Face, ten to [Reinhold] Messner for climbing <strong>the</strong><br />

North Face solo and without oxygen in 1980,<br />

and ten to [Erhard] Loretan and [Jean] Triollet<br />

for <strong>the</strong>ir audacious 1986 alpine style ascent,<br />

and ten to Tom Hornbein and Willi Unsoeld for<br />

traversing <strong>the</strong> mountain via <strong>the</strong> fearsome West<br />

Ridge in 1963—believe me, it is fearsome. I have<br />

climbed most of it, but not all of it and that is<br />

ano<strong>the</strong>r story. I would only give a guided climber<br />

on Everest’s standard routes one point. To be<br />

sure it is an Everest point but it just isn’t <strong>the</strong><br />

same as <strong>the</strong> climbers whose ascents pushed<br />

<strong>the</strong> envelope of human capacity and showed us<br />

all what was possible. Still, if you make a mistake<br />

it doesn’t matter whe<strong>the</strong>r your climb gets one<br />

or ten points for its skill, audacity, or horizonexpanding<br />

qualities—you die. <strong>The</strong> journey better<br />

be worth it.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


Suicidal Birds<br />

fear, destiny, and <strong>the</strong> human mind<br />

by Christopher Ondaatje<br />

<strong>The</strong> birds come in <strong>the</strong> thousands—hundreds of<br />

thousands—to Jatinga, a tiny village on a ridge in<br />

<strong>the</strong> North Cachar Hills district in sou<strong>the</strong>rn Assam.<br />

Rare and exotic birds: <strong>the</strong> Red Headed Trogon,<br />

<strong>the</strong> Spangled Drongo, Blue Breasted Quail, <strong>the</strong><br />

Khalij Pheasant, Watercock, <strong>the</strong> Eurasian Curlew,<br />

<strong>the</strong> Paradise Flycatcher, Mountain Imperial<br />

Pigeons, Maroon Orioles, Crested Serpent<br />

Eagles, Red Junglefowl, Veenal Hanging Parrots,<br />

Scimitar Babblers, <strong>the</strong> Silver Eared Mesia,<br />

<strong>the</strong> Blue Winged Minia, Woodcock, Doves,<br />

White Throated Kingfishers, and a host of Ashy<br />

Woodswallows. <strong>The</strong>re are o<strong>the</strong>rs. It is a mysterious<br />

phenomenon that happens every autumn at<br />

<strong>the</strong> end of <strong>the</strong> monsoon months, and always on<br />

moonless and foggy late dark evenings between<br />

7:00 and 10:00 p.m. Flying birds come crashing<br />

to <strong>the</strong> ground with no warning. At first, <strong>the</strong> local<br />

tribes interpreted this unnatural happening as a<br />

sign sent by spirits to terrorize <strong>the</strong>m. But now <strong>the</strong><br />

villagers light torches to fur<strong>the</strong>r attract and confuse<br />

<strong>the</strong> birds, killing <strong>the</strong>m for food.<br />

<strong>The</strong> mist and fog hang like a veil around <strong>the</strong><br />

beautiful face of a young woman over Jatinga,<br />

which is located on a spur of <strong>the</strong> Haflong Ridge—<br />

an offshoot of <strong>the</strong> main ridge of <strong>the</strong> Borail Range.<br />

Curiously, <strong>the</strong> doomed birds do not attempt to fly<br />

away after <strong>the</strong>y land near <strong>the</strong> lights. Dazed and<br />

dishevelled, <strong>the</strong>y fall easy prey to <strong>the</strong> villagers,<br />

some of whom use bamboo poles to bring down<br />

<strong>the</strong> hovering birds. Records maintain that almost<br />

fifty different bird species are attracted each year<br />

to <strong>the</strong> Jatinga ridge. Invariably, <strong>the</strong>y fly in only from<br />

<strong>the</strong> north and, when <strong>the</strong> winds fly against <strong>the</strong>m,<br />

from <strong>the</strong> south. <strong>The</strong> suicidal activity of <strong>the</strong> birds<br />

has never been explained. It is inevitable that <strong>the</strong><br />

birds get caught up in <strong>the</strong> fog and <strong>the</strong> wind and<br />

get disorientated. But still <strong>the</strong>y come and die—<br />

year after year after year. Why<br />

Curiously, it was Arne Naess, <strong>the</strong> Norwegian<br />

mountaineer, who asked me whe<strong>the</strong>r I knew of<br />

<strong>the</strong> suicidal birds when we were on a flight back<br />

to England from Bermuda in 1985. We talked<br />

through <strong>the</strong> night despite his being in a very weak<br />

state as he had only just returned from leading<br />

a successful Norwegian assault on Mt. Everest,<br />

which included <strong>the</strong> English mountaineer Chris<br />

Bonington. It was one of <strong>the</strong> most successful expeditions<br />

ever. All 17 members made <strong>the</strong> summit<br />

from <strong>the</strong> South Col–South East Ridge. He had<br />

lost an awful lot of weight and his voice was reduced<br />

to a faint, high-pitched whisper. He talked<br />

a lot about death. “You know, Christopher, <strong>the</strong>y<br />

say you have to give 100 percent in order to climb<br />

48


Everest. But <strong>the</strong>y are wrong. You have to give 120<br />

percent nearly all <strong>the</strong> time. And death is always<br />

around you: frozen bodies, discarded oxygen<br />

tanks, graves. Oblivion is only inches away. And<br />

permanent exhaustion. You are forever fighting <strong>the</strong><br />

elements and yourself. <strong>The</strong>re are o<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>the</strong>re but<br />

this is a lonely business. You know that if you do<br />

not have <strong>the</strong> will to survive it is a simple matter of<br />

having to chose between life and death.”<br />

Naess, who was born Arne Raab in 1937,<br />

was <strong>the</strong> son of a German ski-jumping coach and<br />

Kikki Naess, a member of one of Norway’s most<br />

prominent families. His uncle Arne Naess, after<br />

whom he was named, was a famous mountaineer,<br />

ecologist, and philosopher who, in 1950, had led<br />

<strong>the</strong> expedition that made <strong>the</strong> first ascent of Tirich<br />

Mir in Pakistan. When his parents’ marriage broke<br />

up after <strong>the</strong> Second World War, <strong>the</strong> eight-year-old<br />

moved to Norway with his mo<strong>the</strong>r and his name was<br />

changed to Naess. Picked on at school because he<br />

spoke German in a nation still bitter about <strong>the</strong> Nazi<br />

occupation, he eventually won <strong>the</strong> admiration of his<br />

peers for his daredevil exploits. It is rumored that he<br />

celebrated his last day at school in 1956 by climbing<br />

<strong>the</strong> National <strong>The</strong>ater buildings in Oslo, leaving<br />

his school cap on <strong>the</strong> building’s spire. Later he<br />

was introduced to serious climbing by his uncle—a<br />

passion that absorbed him for <strong>the</strong> rest of his life.<br />

He eventually left Norway to work in New York for<br />

ano<strong>the</strong>r uncle, Erling Naess, who taught him about<br />

<strong>the</strong> shipping business. By <strong>the</strong> late 1960s, when I<br />

met him and he became a director of my Canadian<br />

publishing company, he was estimated to be worth<br />

$100 million. By <strong>the</strong>n he had led a 1979 Norwegian<br />

expedition to Numbur, a mountain 50 kilometers<br />

south of Everest. This was followed by several o<strong>the</strong>r<br />

important climbs. <strong>The</strong> passion endured but Everest<br />

always remained his main focus.<br />

It was curious that Naess mentioned Jatinga and<br />

<strong>the</strong> suicidal birds. But, after <strong>the</strong> exhausting experience<br />

of <strong>the</strong> successful Everest expedition, death<br />

was very much on his mind. He had several close<br />

calls and asked me point-blank during our long conversation<br />

whe<strong>the</strong>r I had ever contemplated suicide.<br />

I said I hadn’t, although I had written about it in a<br />

1970 novel Fool’s Gold, about a young financial<br />

adventurer who loses everything in a stock market<br />

venture. He seemed fascinated. <strong>The</strong>n he explained<br />

that he himself had never actually considered suicide<br />

but, like <strong>the</strong> Jatinga birds, had forever felt <strong>the</strong><br />

urge to flirt with death and, if necessary, strive for<br />

and achieve <strong>the</strong> impossible. It was like a magnet<br />

for him. He never thought he would succeed in <strong>the</strong><br />

Everest experience. Even if he achieved <strong>the</strong> summit,<br />

he never thought he would ever actually get<br />

back to basecamp. <strong>The</strong> effort was beyond anything<br />

he could have imagined and it changed his life.<br />

We remained friends—even after I had sold all<br />

my North American business interests in 1988<br />

and returned to England to concentrate on writing<br />

and exploration. By <strong>the</strong>n, Naess had left his<br />

first wife to marry <strong>the</strong> American singer Diana Ross<br />

who he had met in <strong>the</strong> Bahamas. That turbulent<br />

marriage would end in 1999.<br />

I saw Naess for <strong>the</strong> last time in 2003 at <strong>The</strong> Royal<br />

Geographical Society’s 50th Anniversary movie<br />

of <strong>the</strong> first ascent of Everest by Sir Edmund Hillary<br />

and Sherpa Tenzing Norgay in 1953. As usual we<br />

talked about <strong>the</strong> good old times toge<strong>the</strong>r, turmoil<br />

in <strong>the</strong> financial markets, and our climbing and writing<br />

ambitions. He told me he had met and fallen<br />

in love with a Norwegian girl, Camilla Astrup, but<br />

had no intention of giving up his mountaineering<br />

career. “<strong>The</strong>re are still more peaks to conquer,” he<br />

laughed. “Some of <strong>the</strong>m never climbed before.”<br />

He seemed very happy and at ease with himself.<br />

<strong>The</strong>refore it was an awful shock when I learned,<br />

first on <strong>the</strong> radio in England and <strong>the</strong>n in <strong>the</strong> next<br />

day’s newspaper, that on January 13, 2004, while<br />

visiting his good friend, Johan Rupert, in South<br />

Africa, he had died in a freak climbing accident<br />

while descending a peak in <strong>the</strong> Groot Drakenstein<br />

Mountains near Franschoek outside of Cape<br />

Town. His companions said it was an accident<br />

and I am convinced it was not anything else. <strong>The</strong>y<br />

had recommended that a local mountain guide<br />

accompany him on <strong>the</strong> climb but he had refused.<br />

According to police reports, Naess’ anchoring<br />

equipment loosened from <strong>the</strong> porous mountainside,<br />

and he fell a hundred meters to his death.<br />

Arne Naess died doing what he enjoyed most<br />

in his life. But I never forgot that curious emotional<br />

conversation I had with him after his Everest expedition,<br />

when he asked whe<strong>the</strong>r I knew about <strong>the</strong><br />

suicidal birds of Jatinga.<br />

biography<br />

A Fellow of <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> since 1994, Sir Christopher Ondaatje<br />

is <strong>the</strong> author of nearly a dozen books, including Journey to <strong>the</strong> Source<br />

of <strong>the</strong> Nile and <strong>The</strong> Man-Eater of Punanai: A Voyage of Discovery to<br />

<strong>the</strong> Jungles of Old Ceylon and Four Stories of <strong>the</strong> East.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


a risky road<br />

to freedom<br />

in <strong>the</strong> footsteps of His Holiness,<br />

<strong>the</strong> 14th Dalai Lama<br />

text and images by Alan Nichols<br />

Lhasa • Lhasa river<br />

norbulinka •ramadan<br />

to mt. kailas<br />

• Shigatse<br />

• chela pass<br />

Brahmaputra river<br />

tsethang •<br />

<strong>The</strong> Valley of <strong>the</strong> Kings<br />

Dalai Lama’s escape route, March 1959<br />

flag° 186 expedition<br />

lhuntse dzong •<br />

Mt. Everest<br />

“freedom in exile” •tawang<br />

Brahmaputra river<br />

50<br />

It has been 50 years since His Holiness <strong>the</strong> 14th<br />

Dalai Lama fled his homeland during Chinese<br />

suppression of <strong>the</strong> March 1959 Tibetan Uprising,<br />

a revolt carried out in <strong>the</strong> response to nearly a decade<br />

of occupation and fears that <strong>the</strong> Red Army<br />

had plans to abduct <strong>the</strong> spiritual leader.<br />

With CIA support, Tibetan Freedom Fighters<br />

had been working to fend off <strong>the</strong> Red Army, especially<br />

near and south of Lhasa. And although <strong>the</strong><br />

Dalai Lama asked his people not to resist Chinese<br />

authorities, ordering <strong>the</strong>m to lay down <strong>the</strong>ir arms,<br />

<strong>the</strong>y chose not to obey. When thousands of<br />

loyal Tibetans surrounded his summer residence at<br />

Norbulinka near <strong>the</strong> capital to protect His Holiness,<br />

Chinese troops soon moved in.<br />

Terrified of being captured, <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama<br />

disguised himself as a Tibetan army soldier and<br />

<strong>The</strong> author atop a white horse on <strong>the</strong> Chela.


slipped out of <strong>the</strong> Norbulinka at midnight, virtually<br />

unnoticed. <strong>The</strong> Freedom Fighters fought off <strong>the</strong><br />

pursuing Chinese army and, traveling by night on<br />

horseback, escorted His Holiness to India. <strong>The</strong><br />

Freedom Fighters later returned to fight and die in<br />

Tibet. In India, <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama, as he wrote in his<br />

autobiography, Freedom in Exile, did indeed find<br />

freedom, completed his education, and rose to<br />

become <strong>the</strong> world’s foremost advocate for peace.<br />

I have been drawn to <strong>the</strong> world’s most sacred<br />

mountains, including those in areas adjoining<br />

Tibet—China, India, Ladakh, Bhutan, and Nepal—<br />

and in 1981, became <strong>the</strong> first Western pilgrim to<br />

circumambulate Mt. Kailas in southwestern Tibet<br />

after China opened <strong>the</strong> country to foreigners.<br />

<strong>The</strong>re, I was able to walk <strong>the</strong> kora around that holy<br />

mountain counterclockwise in <strong>the</strong> ancient shamanistic<br />

Bonpo tradition, which predates Buddhism<br />

in Tibet. Mt. Kailas is <strong>the</strong> home of Shiva and his<br />

consort Parvati to all Hindus and <strong>the</strong> connection<br />

between heaven and Earth to Buddhists.<br />

It was on that trip that I became stranded alone<br />

in a blizzard on <strong>the</strong> Dolma La at 5,670 meters. I<br />

survived thanks to <strong>the</strong> generosity of a lama in Lhasa<br />

who insisted on giving me his heavy full-length<br />

wool coat; <strong>the</strong> mountain that cleared <strong>the</strong> skies for a<br />

morning sun; and two Bonpo priests who rescued<br />

me, warming me with a yak-dung fire and providing<br />

me with food and water.<br />

<strong>The</strong> risks of my expeditions into Tibet over <strong>the</strong><br />

past 25 years pale in comparison to <strong>the</strong> risks ordinary<br />

Tibetans face every day—at worst, torture<br />

and death; at best, marginalization in <strong>the</strong> form<br />

of joblessness, fear, poor education, and nonexistent<br />

civil rights. Tibetans continue to risk <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

lives escaping Tibet, traveling over 5,800-meter<br />

passes in ill-fitting tennis shoes in <strong>the</strong> middle of<br />

winter. In pondering <strong>the</strong>ir plight, I could not help<br />

but think about <strong>the</strong> narrow escape of His Holiness<br />

that spring in 1959.<br />

Based on CIA records—updates provided to<br />

<strong>the</strong>n President Dwight D. Eisenhower by CIAtrained<br />

Tibetan Freedom Fighters—<strong>the</strong> Dalai<br />

Lama’s own writings, and archives at Stanford’s<br />

Hoover Institute and Library, I was determined to<br />

reconstruct <strong>the</strong> route—<strong>the</strong> exact roads and trails—<br />

his party traveled. It was my hope to follow his<br />

perilous route firsthand.<br />

In centuries past, <strong>the</strong> biggest danger in Tibet<br />

was falling prey to bandits. Today, banditry in Tibet<br />

is still carried out, but largely by <strong>the</strong> government,<br />

which extracts money from visitors through an<br />

elaborate and ever-changing permit system. One<br />

needs a permit to board a train to Lhasa and multiple<br />

permits to leave Lhasa. <strong>The</strong>se are obtained<br />

from <strong>the</strong> army, police, foreign ministry, and local<br />

officials, and require great amounts of time,<br />

money, and patience. In <strong>the</strong> Tibet Autonomous<br />

Region, foreigners’ travel is not ruled by laws but<br />

by officials’ whims.<br />

Officially, my wife Becky and I have journeyed to<br />

Lhasa to visit <strong>the</strong> Potala, <strong>the</strong> historic home of <strong>the</strong><br />

Dalai Lama and seat of <strong>the</strong> traditional Tibetan government,<br />

and <strong>the</strong> Jokhang, Tibet’s central Buddhist<br />

shrine, and o<strong>the</strong>r important Buddhist sites, many<br />

rebuilt in recent years by <strong>the</strong> Chinese government.<br />

We would also be trekking around sacred Mt.<br />

Kailas and in <strong>the</strong> vicinity of <strong>the</strong> Everest basecamp.<br />

Unofficially, we had come to Tibet, carrying<br />

<strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> Flag Nº 186, to retrace and<br />

document <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama’s historic flight out of <strong>the</strong><br />

Himalayan nation five decades ago and, in <strong>the</strong> process,<br />

explore <strong>the</strong> various mountain passes between<br />

Tibet, India, and Nepal, which Buddhist pilgrims<br />

and Tibetan refugees continue to use today.<br />

Suffice it to say, permits do not exist for what<br />

we had planned to do. Much of our travel would<br />

be with <strong>the</strong> aid of trusted friends, some of whom<br />

would be risking <strong>the</strong>ir lives by mere association.<br />

We took <strong>the</strong> new train some 4,050 kilometers<br />

from Beijing to Lhasa, a journey that took 47 hours<br />

and 20 minutes. Built at a cost of $4.2 billion, <strong>the</strong><br />

train travels over <strong>the</strong> highest tracks and tunnels<br />

in <strong>the</strong> world hewn out of <strong>the</strong> Himalaya at more<br />

than 5,000 meters. <strong>The</strong>y solved <strong>the</strong>ir communications<br />

problems with a $1 billion contract with a<br />

Canadian company and <strong>the</strong>y stabilized areas of<br />

permafrost by refrigerating more than 640 kilometers<br />

of <strong>the</strong> track bed. Although <strong>the</strong> passengers and<br />

<strong>the</strong> train staff were all Han Chinese, I managed to<br />

find one car, separated from <strong>the</strong> rest of <strong>the</strong> train,<br />

full of Tibetans. We exchanged songs; I sang my<br />

“Streets of Old Lhasa” (apologies to Loredo). We<br />

enjoyed ourselves but afterwards <strong>the</strong> train was<br />

locked down to keep foreigners away.<br />

<strong>The</strong> views from our train windows rekindled my<br />

love for Tibet—wide-open country, green rolling<br />

hills, pure blue skies, puffy white clouds, and <strong>the</strong><br />

bright sun. Within <strong>the</strong> train, conditions got quite<br />

raunchy with urine on <strong>the</strong> bathroom floors, grease<br />

oozing out from <strong>the</strong> dining car, and cigarette<br />

smoke filling <strong>the</strong> air.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


From years of travel throughout China by bike,<br />

I was fully aware that my telephone calls would<br />

be intercepted, my internet messages monitored,<br />

my mail opened, my rooms searched, and anyone<br />

I talked to or spent time with interrogated. Police,<br />

uniformed and plain-clo<strong>the</strong>d, are everywhere here.<br />

While we are in Lhasa, a German woman in<br />

our hotel is arrested and immediately deported<br />

for handing a picture of <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama to a lama<br />

at Sera Monastery. She was fortunate. Tibetans<br />

are routinely thrown in<br />

prison and tortured for<br />

possessing that picture.<br />

<strong>The</strong> man to whom she<br />

had given <strong>the</strong> picture<br />

was not a lama but a<br />

policeman in disguise.<br />

For journeys outside<br />

Lhasa—to <strong>the</strong> area of<br />

Mt. Kailas and Everest—<br />

we would be assigned<br />

an official governmentlicensed<br />

guide and a<br />

driver who would take<br />

care of <strong>the</strong> various assessments<br />

and security<br />

checkpoints. We were<br />

careful not to tell <strong>the</strong>m<br />

our intention to follow<br />

<strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama’s route of flight or locate refugee<br />

passes over <strong>the</strong> Himalayas. I was careful to mention<br />

only tourist book interests. As <strong>the</strong>y are regularly<br />

questioned about what we are up to, guides<br />

try mightily to keep us in <strong>the</strong> usual tourist track.<br />

As a result, we often end up in filthy rooms for<br />

<strong>the</strong> night and eating suspicious foods because<br />

our guide and driver refuse to camp even though<br />

we have brought ample gear and provisions. “Too<br />

cold…too dangerous…and, most of all, not approved,”<br />

<strong>the</strong>y tell us.<br />

We began our pilgrimage at <strong>the</strong> Norbulinka,<br />

which is open to <strong>the</strong> public as a tourist attraction.<br />

It is easy to re-create that first night of <strong>the</strong> Dalai<br />

Lama’s escape. Now, as <strong>the</strong>n, <strong>the</strong> Chinese presence<br />

is ubiquitous. Police are everywhere. We<br />

even found mortar shrapnel from <strong>the</strong> 1959 attack<br />

in <strong>the</strong> Norbulinka gardens. <strong>The</strong> blown-up remains<br />

of <strong>the</strong> temple <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama last visited, where<br />

he left his scarf as a promise he would return, are<br />

still <strong>the</strong>re. Surreptitiously, we photographed <strong>the</strong><br />

bedroom where he spent his last night and <strong>the</strong><br />

52<br />

pathways to <strong>the</strong> south gate through which he fled.<br />

Although <strong>the</strong>re is now a new bridge across <strong>the</strong><br />

Lhasa River, we were able to video <strong>the</strong> Ramadan<br />

village and ferry where His Holiness crossed <strong>the</strong><br />

water with <strong>the</strong> Freedom Fighters.<br />

After a two-hour rest <strong>the</strong> night of his flight,<br />

<strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama was escorted on a white horse<br />

over <strong>the</strong> Chela, which separates Lhasa from <strong>the</strong><br />

Yarlung River Valley to <strong>the</strong> south toward India. He<br />

reported this was his last sight of Lhasa.<br />

I’m determined to<br />

experience it for myself.<br />

While still in <strong>the</strong><br />

capital, I find a Tibetan<br />

who introduces me to<br />

an old man who that<br />

night had scouted <strong>the</strong><br />

Dalai Lama’s flight<br />

over <strong>the</strong> pass. To avoid<br />

police, my contact and<br />

I leave Lhasa at 3:00<br />

a.m. and hike <strong>the</strong> pass<br />

at first light. Halfway<br />

up, that same scout<br />

brings up a white horse<br />

for me to ride, just as<br />

he did for <strong>the</strong> Dalai<br />

Lama 50 years earlier,<br />

fur<strong>the</strong>r deepening my<br />

experience. <strong>The</strong>y guide me to <strong>the</strong> top and give<br />

me lunch. <strong>The</strong>y also tell me part of <strong>the</strong> story <strong>the</strong><br />

Dalai Lama didn’t know. <strong>The</strong> Chinese troops,<br />

frustrated by <strong>the</strong> Tibetan guerillas and unable<br />

to capture <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama, burned <strong>the</strong> homes<br />

and killed <strong>the</strong> families of anyone suspected of<br />

aiding <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama’s escape, including <strong>the</strong><br />

family with whom <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama rested before<br />

riding up <strong>the</strong> pass. Since <strong>the</strong>y won’t let me pay<br />

for <strong>the</strong>ir time and risk, I just stuff money in <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

pockets and leave.<br />

Standing atop <strong>the</strong> pass in <strong>the</strong> early morning sun,<br />

I could understand how <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama must have<br />

felt looking down <strong>the</strong> long river valley and over <strong>the</strong><br />

distant ranges where he must travel to get to India,<br />

knowing <strong>the</strong> People’s Liberation Army would soon<br />

come after him—freedom so seemingly far away.<br />

He writes that he looked back toward Lhasa, his<br />

home, for <strong>the</strong> last time, knowing <strong>the</strong> suffering his<br />

people would endure without him.<br />

Becky and I <strong>the</strong>n drove along <strong>the</strong> Yarlung River,<br />

where he rode his horse, to Tsethang and scouted<br />

Pilgrims near Lake Paiku on <strong>the</strong> road to Mt. Kailas in sou<strong>the</strong>rn Tibet.


Dirapuk Monastery and <strong>the</strong> 18,600-foot Dolma La en route to Mt. Kailas in <strong>the</strong> background.<br />

<strong>the</strong> ferry near Samye Monastery, where he crossed.<br />

While <strong>the</strong> two previous roadblocks had been no<br />

problem, <strong>the</strong> police were apparently suspicious<br />

about what we were doing in that area and held us<br />

for three hours. Luckily, our guide convinced <strong>the</strong>m<br />

we just wanted to visit <strong>the</strong> Chongyre Royal Tombs<br />

in <strong>the</strong> Valley of <strong>the</strong> Kings, many kilometers toward<br />

<strong>the</strong> Indian border. After all, <strong>the</strong>se seldom-visited<br />

tombs included <strong>the</strong> burial site of Songsten Gampo,<br />

<strong>the</strong> founding Warrior King of <strong>the</strong> Tibet nation.<br />

About 60 miles from <strong>the</strong> Indian border, our luck<br />

ran out. <strong>The</strong> Dalai Lama made it but we didn’t. <strong>The</strong><br />

army had sealed <strong>the</strong> area and no amount of bribery<br />

would work with our driver and guide. We <strong>the</strong>n head<br />

for my holy Mt. Kailas, but that’s ano<strong>the</strong>r story.<br />

I had my first audience with <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama in<br />

1972, 13 years after he found his freedom. We<br />

talked about sacred mountains. It took courage for<br />

His Holiness to leave Tibet, ill, traveling by night,<br />

fearing <strong>the</strong> horror of capture, and facing a dangerous,<br />

unknown world. His successes, however,<br />

have unexpected consequences for <strong>the</strong> Tibetans.<br />

When we got back to Lhasa, I personally witnessed<br />

<strong>the</strong> lockdown and punishment of lamas<br />

at Drepung Monastery for <strong>the</strong>ir celebration of <strong>the</strong><br />

awarding of <strong>the</strong> Medal of Honor by <strong>the</strong> United<br />

States Congress to <strong>the</strong> Dalai Lama.<br />

Tibetans are desperate for <strong>the</strong> return of <strong>the</strong> Dalai<br />

Lama after all <strong>the</strong>se years. It will take great courage<br />

for him to be with his people but he knows <strong>the</strong><br />

way…and so do I.<br />

Acknowledgments<br />

Thank you to my fantastic wife Becky for taking a chance<br />

with me and to <strong>the</strong> Sacred Mountain Foundation for financing<br />

<strong>the</strong> expedition.<br />

biography<br />

A Fellow of <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> since 1984 and current chairman of its<br />

Nor<strong>the</strong>rn California Chapter, Alan Nichols is a Tibetologist. His latest<br />

article in Tibetan World outlines a unique proposal to resolve <strong>the</strong> Tibet<br />

occupation. This is his sixth flag-carrying expedition.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


Extreme medicine<br />

your health and safety in <strong>the</strong> field<br />

<strong>The</strong> Remote<br />

possibility of RISK<br />

best to be informed and unarmed<br />

Expeditions have inherent risks for injury and exposure<br />

and knowing what to expect is essential<br />

to preparation. While one cannot be prepared<br />

for a swine flu outbreak, one can be informed<br />

about known local health problems and security<br />

issues. Surprisingly, says Warren Young, director<br />

of security for <strong>the</strong> International Monetary Fund,<br />

which employs a staff of 2,500 in 185 countries,<br />

<strong>the</strong> most common mistake travelers make is not<br />

educating <strong>the</strong>mselves about risks in a destination<br />

country. Scott Harrison, former CIA station<br />

by Michael J. Manyak, M.D., FACS<br />

chief in China and founder of risk management<br />

company PSA Inc., concurs with Young that<br />

many travelers have only limited knowledge of<br />

local realties or <strong>the</strong> ability to weigh ground truth<br />

against common perceptions. It is often a case<br />

of not knowing what you don’t know.<br />

We asked <strong>the</strong>se experts to share with us what<br />

<strong>the</strong>y consider <strong>the</strong>ir tips on travel security.<br />

For sources civilian travelers can use to determine<br />

risk in a location, <strong>the</strong>y recommended several<br />

important websites containing basic travel<br />

A car loaded with explosives detonates after a fender bender in Baghdad. Courtesy Mike Shiley, Inside Iraq: <strong>The</strong> Untold Stories (2004).<br />

54


information, particularly with regard to health<br />

conditions and civil unrest:<br />

• World Health Organization (WHO), Center for Disease<br />

Control (CDC), and Red Cross<br />

• U.S .Department of State (http://www.state.gov/travel)<br />

• <strong>The</strong> UN, UK, Australia, and Canadian government country<br />

travel advisory websites are a good way to triangulate differing<br />

opinions on Third World destinations.<br />

“<strong>The</strong> U.S. State Department travel advisory site<br />

has been criticized for being overly politicized,”<br />

says Young, noting that <strong>the</strong>ir advisories do err<br />

in favor of worst-case conditions. However, human<br />

nature assumes bad things only happen to<br />

o<strong>the</strong>rs. If concerned, a long distance call to <strong>the</strong><br />

Regional Security Office of <strong>the</strong> pertinent embassy<br />

will provide additional information. “People on<br />

<strong>the</strong> ground in a country are often more attuned<br />

to <strong>the</strong> immediate situation,” adds Harrison, who<br />

says “any local source can be quite helpful.”<br />

Departure for an expedition often is from a<br />

city in a Third World country, which might have<br />

safety issues. Our experts offered us several<br />

recommendations for safety during hotel stays<br />

in such places.<br />

• Fire safety is a major concern in developing countries. Stay<br />

on a floor above ground level but low enough for fire fighting equipment<br />

to reach (floors 2 to 7). Know where fire exits are.<br />

• Request a room that does not face <strong>the</strong> hotel front to mitigate<br />

bomb blast impact if in a country with political volatility.<br />

• Use a rubber “door stop” to supplement <strong>the</strong> door lock while<br />

in your room.<br />

• Have adequate communications.<br />

• Be alert to clever scams initiated over <strong>the</strong> hotel room phone.<br />

• Ensure that somebody (embassy contact, someone at home)<br />

knows where you are each day.<br />

When we asked about what to do during an<br />

outbreak of violence in <strong>the</strong> city in which you are<br />

staying, both Harrison and Young agree that <strong>the</strong><br />

best course of action in most cases is to stay in<br />

your hotel. “Most hotel staff,” says Young, “are<br />

more finely attuned to local conditions than visitors,<br />

heed <strong>the</strong>ir advice.” If one is out, vacate <strong>the</strong><br />

immediate scene of violence or protest by <strong>the</strong><br />

fastest, safest route. If it is impossible to retreat<br />

to one’s hotel, seek sanctuary in a building likely<br />

to afford protection from <strong>the</strong> swirling events. “If<br />

pinned down due to violence,” says Harrison, “a<br />

workable cell phone may be your best means of<br />

alerting o<strong>the</strong>rs and rescue.”<br />

So how realistic is it to expect help from one’s<br />

embassy during an outbreak of violence or unrest<br />

in a foreign country<br />

“Embassies do not have resources to rescue<br />

people from routine dangerous situations on a<br />

daily basis,” Harrison told us, but registering with<br />

your embassy upon arrival is always prudent so<br />

<strong>the</strong>y know of your presence in <strong>the</strong>ir jurisdiction.<br />

In cases of natural disaster or a calamity involving<br />

large numbers of foreigners, embassies are<br />

usually very helpful in organizing evacuations.<br />

Both Young and Harrison concur that if you are<br />

arrested rightly or wrongly, international consular<br />

law allows embassy access to imprisoned<br />

citizens.<br />

We asked if those traveling to a troubled area<br />

should get visas for surrounding countries in<br />

case of need to evacuate rapidly.<br />

“This is actually a very good idea,” says Young,<br />

“one we often use for IMF travelers. Open airline<br />

tickets avoid scrambling for a ticket during an<br />

emergency. Determining evacuation contingencies<br />

before travel is also very prudent.”<br />

So how real is <strong>the</strong> risk of being kidnapped in a<br />

Third World country or remote area<br />

<strong>The</strong> risk of being kidnapped is very real in certain<br />

countries, especially in a remote area where<br />

insurgencies abound or crime syndicates thrive.<br />

“Kidnapping is often a crime of opportunity and<br />

not well planned in advance like in <strong>the</strong> movies,”<br />

says Harrison, noting that grinding poverty may<br />

be <strong>the</strong> motivator for someone seeing an easy<br />

payday from a well-heeled hostage. Many corporations<br />

have kidnap and ransom (K&R) insurance<br />

for employees, which ensures a negotiated<br />

release, but it may be prohibitive for individuals.<br />

AIG Insurance is a global leader in K&R, extortion,<br />

and unlawful detention coverage.<br />

So should one be armed in a troubled area<br />

Young and Harrison both say that travelers<br />

should avoid carrying firearms. It is nearly impossible<br />

today to travel abroad with weaponry.<br />

Carrying a weapon while traveling generally<br />

creates more problems than it solves. If <strong>the</strong>re<br />

are reasons to be armed, secure armed security<br />

specialists at <strong>the</strong> travel destination. If you really<br />

need armed security, you are probably traveling<br />

to <strong>the</strong> wrong place. Bad things can happen to<br />

good people so don’t tempt fate.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


Extreme Cuisine<br />

food for <strong>the</strong> epicurean adventurer<br />

solar-baked Bread<br />

by Linda Frederick Yaffe<br />

“Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath <strong>the</strong> Bough,<br />

A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and Thou<br />

Beside me singing in <strong>the</strong> Wilderness—<br />

And Wilderness is Paradise enow.”<br />

—Omar Khayyam, <strong>The</strong> Rubaiyat, ca. a.d. 1120<br />

Astonish your camping party: present <strong>the</strong>m<br />

with a loaf of fresh bread. Include in your gear<br />

a portable solar panel cooker, in which you can<br />

cook or bake. It will also heat and pasteurize<br />

water…all without <strong>the</strong> smoke, pollution, safety<br />

concerns, and constant tending that accompany<br />

campfire cooking. <strong>The</strong> following recipes<br />

are swiftly prepared in one bowl, in one step.<br />

Place <strong>the</strong> loaf in <strong>the</strong> solar cooker for about an<br />

hour and a half between 10:00 a.m. and 2:00<br />

p.m. on a sunny day—and serve with pleasure.<br />

solar yeast bread<br />

makes one 8-inch round loaf<br />

1. Oil an 8-inch-diameter pot.<br />

2. Stir toge<strong>the</strong>r in a large bowl or pot, beating well after each addition:<br />

• ½ cup warm water<br />

• 2 tablespoons (2 packages) active dry yeast<br />

• 5 ounces (1 small can) evaporated milk<br />

• 2 tablespoons brown sugar<br />

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil<br />

• ½ teaspoon salt<br />

• teaSpoon black pepper<br />

• 1½ cups whole wheat flour<br />

3. Add 1 cup unbleached white flour and knead briefly in a bowl to form<br />

a smooth 7-inch diameter loaf.<br />

4. Place <strong>the</strong> loaf in <strong>the</strong> oiled pot, cover, and place in solar cooker for<br />

1½ hours, or until light brown.<br />

56


Rosemary-onion<br />

focaccia<br />

makes one 10×15-inch flatbread<br />

1. Combine in a medium bowl, beating after each addition:<br />

• 1 cup warm water<br />

• 1 tablespoon active dry yeast<br />

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil<br />

• 1 tablespoon brown sugar<br />

• ½ teaspoon salt<br />

• 1¼ cups whole wheat flour<br />

• 1 cup unbleached white flour<br />

2. Let stand in a warm, draft-free place for 1 hour, or until doubled<br />

in bulk.<br />

3. Oil a 10×15-inch rimmed baking sheet. Flour your hands, punch down<br />

<strong>the</strong> dough, and press <strong>the</strong> dough to fill <strong>the</strong> baking sheet. Let rest for<br />

20 minutes.<br />

4. Sprinkle over <strong>the</strong> dough and let rest for 20 minutes longer:<br />

• 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh (or 1½ teaspoon dried) rosemary<br />

• cup finely chopped red onion<br />

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil<br />

• 1 teaspoon coarse sea salt<br />

5. Press fingertips all over dough, forming indentations. Place<br />

uncovered in solar cooker for 1½ hours. Serve warm or at room<br />

temperature.<br />

makes one 8-inch loaf<br />

lemon<br />

gingerbread<br />

1. Combine in a medium bowl, beating after each addition:<br />

• ¾ cup warm water<br />

• 2 tablespoons dark molasses<br />

• juice of 2 fresh lemons<br />

• ¾ cup brown sugar<br />

• ½ cup canola oil<br />

• 1½ cups whole wheat flour<br />

• 2 teaspoons baking soda<br />

• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon<br />

• 2 teaspoons ground ginger<br />

2. Pour into an oiled 8-inch round or square pan. Cover and place in<br />

solar cooker for 1½ hours or until a toothpick inserted in center<br />

comes out clean. Serve as is or with cheese.<br />

Biography<br />

A California-based writer, Linda Frederick Yaffe is <strong>the</strong><br />

author of Backpack Gourmet, High Trail Cookery, and <strong>the</strong><br />

recently released Solar Cooking for Home and Camp.


eviews<br />

edited by Milbry C. Polk<br />

Living in Darkness<br />

184 pp • Alabama: National<br />

Speleological Society; 2009 •<br />

ISBN-10: 1879961326, ISBN-13: 978-<br />

18799613265 • $19<br />

by Stephanie Jutta Schwabe<br />

with contributions by G. Thomas Rea<br />

Steffi Jutte Schwabe, one<br />

very brave scientific cave<br />

diver, has been making some<br />

exceptional discoveries<br />

in <strong>the</strong> Blue Holes of <strong>the</strong><br />

Bahamas and testing new<br />

<strong>the</strong>ories about cave formation.<br />

How she found this<br />

path in life and her adventures,<br />

from <strong>the</strong> euphoric to<br />

<strong>the</strong> tragic, are chronicled<br />

in her new book, Living in<br />

Darkness. A competitive<br />

swimmer, Schwabe was<br />

intrigued when she saw a<br />

class learning how to dive in<br />

her college pool. Never one<br />

to hang back when presented<br />

with a challenge despite<br />

complicating factors—in this<br />

case a chronic ear problem—<br />

Schwabe joined <strong>the</strong> class.<br />

Before long, she was diving<br />

in <strong>the</strong> ocean and <strong>the</strong>n<br />

in caves, which became<br />

her passion and led her to<br />

pursue a graduate degree in<br />

science at <strong>the</strong> University of<br />

Mississippi. It was <strong>the</strong>re that<br />

she met her future husband,<br />

famed cave diver Rob Palmer.<br />

Toge<strong>the</strong>r, <strong>the</strong>y founded <strong>the</strong><br />

Blue Holes Foundation to<br />

study and to preserve <strong>the</strong><br />

fragile and unique Blue and<br />

Black “Holes” or caves of <strong>the</strong><br />

Bahamas. Despite, or perhaps<br />

spurred by, <strong>the</strong> tragic<br />

underwater death of her<br />

husband, Schwabe went on<br />

to get her law degree to more<br />

effectively fight to preserve<br />

this unique cave system.<br />

Schwabe pulls no punches in<br />

<strong>the</strong> book and through her we<br />

learn what a tough yet exciting<br />

path she has chosen for<br />

her life.<br />

58


ownership statement<br />

1. Publication Title: <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong><br />

Journal. 2. Publication Number:<br />

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Price: $29.95. 8. Complete Mailing<br />

Address of Headquarters or General<br />

Business Office of Publisher:<br />

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9. Full Names and Complete Mailing<br />

Addresses of Publisher, Editor,<br />

and Managing Editor: Publisher:<br />

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<strong>Club</strong>, 46 East 70th Street,<br />

New York, NY 10021-4928. Editor:<br />

Angela M.H. Schuster, <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong><br />

<strong>Club</strong>, 46 East 70th Street, New<br />

York, NY 10021-4928. Managing<br />

Editor: N/A. 10. Owner: <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong><br />

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Journal. 14. Issue Date for Circulation<br />

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Extent and Nature of Circulation:<br />

Average Number of Copies Each<br />

Issue During Preceding 12 Months:<br />

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Issue Published Nearest to Filing<br />

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complete: Angela M.H. Schuster,<br />

Editor-in-Chief.<br />

Wildflower<br />

An Extraordinary Life<br />

and Untimely Death in Africa<br />

by Mark Seal<br />

256 pp • New York: Random House,<br />

2009 • ISBN-10: 1400067367, ISBN-13: 978-<br />

1400067367 • $26<br />

Some of <strong>the</strong> best-known conservationists<br />

in Africa have<br />

been attacked in recent years<br />

for <strong>the</strong>ir crusading efforts on<br />

behalf of wildlife. It is a problem<br />

that is due to <strong>the</strong> critical<br />

competition between human<br />

overpopulation and animals<br />

over basic resources like<br />

water and land. In Wildflower:<br />

An Extraordinary Life and<br />

Untimely Death in Africa,<br />

writer Mark Seal has documented<br />

<strong>the</strong> life and death of<br />

one of <strong>the</strong> latest victims, Joan<br />

Root, who was half of <strong>the</strong><br />

well-known Root documentary<br />

team. For decades Joan<br />

and Alan Root created some<br />

of <strong>the</strong> best documentary films<br />

on <strong>the</strong> wildlife of Africa. After<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir divorce, Joan worked to<br />

save a small piece of Kenya’s<br />

beautiful countryside. In 2006<br />

she was murdered. She was<br />

likely targeted because of her<br />

REVIEWS<br />

valiant efforts to save what<br />

once was a stunningly beautiful<br />

lake teeming with wildlife<br />

but had over <strong>the</strong> past decades<br />

become a choked toxic body<br />

of water nearly devoid of fish<br />

and wildlife.<br />

Born in Kenya to a safari<br />

guide and coffee planter,<br />

Joan grew up in <strong>the</strong> country.<br />

When she found and nursed<br />

a baby elephant she won<br />

<strong>the</strong> heart of a rough young<br />

Alan Root, who was eager<br />

to make his mark in <strong>the</strong> film<br />

world. Toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong>y made<br />

spectacular documentaries<br />

of some of <strong>the</strong> most unusual,<br />

little seen, and dramatic of<br />

Africa’s flora and fauna. <strong>The</strong>ir<br />

audiences saw stunning imagery,<br />

including <strong>the</strong> beautiful<br />

Joan as she made a perfect<br />

swan dive into crocodileinfested<br />

pool or as she was<br />

spit at repeatedly (looking for<br />

<strong>the</strong> perfect shot) by a lethal<br />

giant Egyptian cobra. But<br />

Joan was far more than <strong>the</strong><br />

glamorous model, she was<br />

<strong>the</strong> logistician and producer<br />

for <strong>the</strong>ir complicated films<br />

some of which took a year of<br />

more to make. Joan and Alan<br />

spent decades in <strong>the</strong> bush<br />

doing what it took to create<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir award-winning films.<br />

Sadly, <strong>the</strong> team fell apart<br />

when Alan’s philandering<br />

went too far. Joan was bereft.<br />

Always <strong>the</strong> one in <strong>the</strong> background<br />

to <strong>the</strong> more flamboyant<br />

Alan, she had to find her<br />

own voice and interests apart<br />

from her husband.<br />

She became a passionate<br />

crusader for animals and <strong>the</strong><br />

environment. Left after <strong>the</strong><br />

divorce with <strong>the</strong> ramshackle<br />

house on Lake Naivasha that<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong>


<strong>the</strong>y had purchased early in<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir marriage, Joan watched<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir remote paradise become<br />

filled with homeless<br />

migrants, hoping for a job in<br />

<strong>the</strong> booming new business of<br />

growing roses—plantations of<br />

which now encircled <strong>the</strong> lake<br />

pouring fertilizers and waste<br />

that choked <strong>the</strong> waters. Joan<br />

employed poachers to catch<br />

o<strong>the</strong>r poachers and to protect<br />

<strong>the</strong> animals. But she could<br />

not stem <strong>the</strong> tide. Shockingly,<br />

this quiet, lovely, woman was<br />

murdered in a hail of bullets in<br />

her bedroom on <strong>the</strong> lake.<br />

Seal captured her voice and<br />

story in his excellent biography<br />

of a crusader in <strong>the</strong> mold<br />

of her friends Dian Fossey and<br />

Joy and George Adamson, all<br />

of whom paid with <strong>the</strong>ir lives<br />

for <strong>the</strong>ir attempts to save <strong>the</strong><br />

land and animals <strong>the</strong>y loved.<br />

60<br />

C o n f e s s i o n s o f a n<br />

Alien Hunter<br />

by Seth Shostak<br />

320 pp • Washington, DC: National<br />

Geographic, 2009 • ISBN-10: 1426203926,<br />

ISBN-13: 978-1426203923 • $27<br />

REVIEWS<br />

Aliens have always been<br />

among us—so millions believe.<br />

Some see enigmatic ancient<br />

rock paintings as proof, o<strong>the</strong>rs<br />

believe tales of “abduction,”<br />

and thousands of o<strong>the</strong>rwise<br />

credible people claim to have<br />

seen strange space vehicles<br />

hovering, flying in an odd<br />

manner, emitting bizarre lights<br />

and sounds. Books, films, and<br />

TV shows have tantalized and<br />

terrified us with <strong>the</strong> possibility<br />

of benign, benevolent, or<br />

vicious creatures from lightyears<br />

away, intent on getting<br />

something from our blue<br />

Earth. But are <strong>the</strong>y really out<br />

<strong>the</strong>re For several decades<br />

<strong>The</strong> SETI Institute (Search for<br />

Extraterrestrial Intelligence)<br />

has been systematically and<br />

scientifically trolling <strong>the</strong> universe<br />

for some kind of sign.<br />

For 25 years, Seth Shostak,<br />

a senior astronomer, has<br />

been one of <strong>the</strong> searchers.<br />

He chronicles his years on<br />

<strong>the</strong> hunt in a fascinating new<br />

book, Confessions of an<br />

Alien Hunter: A Scientist’s<br />

Search for Extraterrestrial<br />

Intelligence.<br />

Most scientists, it turns<br />

out, do believe life exists in<br />

<strong>the</strong> universe. Not only has<br />

<strong>the</strong> recent discovery of <strong>the</strong><br />

prerequisite of life—water—on<br />

Mars, <strong>the</strong> moons of Jupiter,<br />

even our own Moon, but also<br />

<strong>the</strong> discovery of <strong>the</strong> existence<br />

of hundreds of planets rotating<br />

around distant stars given<br />

credence to <strong>the</strong> existence of<br />

life throughout <strong>the</strong> universe.<br />

But what is <strong>the</strong> nature of that<br />

life Can it communicate<br />

Science exists on proof, not<br />

belief. SETI has been searching<br />

for that proof. Specifically,<br />

<strong>the</strong>y are listening. Decades<br />

of radio and television broadcasts<br />

have streamed from<br />

Earth into space. Likewise,<br />

SETI astronomers believe<br />

o<strong>the</strong>r intelligence may be<br />

deliberately or o<strong>the</strong>rwise<br />

streaming <strong>the</strong>ir communication<br />

into space. Shostak and<br />

his colleagues are looking<br />

for not random interstellar<br />

noise but what Shostak calls<br />

“cosmic company.” Linked to<br />

large radio arrays around <strong>the</strong><br />

world, SETI computers are<br />

downloading and analyzing<br />

packets of sound. And more<br />

than a million private citizens<br />

are helping by downloading<br />

<strong>the</strong>se packets from SETI@<br />

home, onto <strong>the</strong>ir own computers<br />

to aid <strong>the</strong> search. Shostak<br />

tells us that SETI’s method<br />

has a much better chance of<br />

success than that of <strong>the</strong> few<br />

spacecraft we have sent aloft,<br />

which can only move relatively<br />

slowly over space and time.<br />

Results from <strong>the</strong>ir explorations<br />

will take countless years<br />

to reach Earth, by which time<br />

we will all be long gone.<br />

Shostak reviews of our<br />

evolving understanding of both<br />

<strong>the</strong> place of <strong>the</strong> Earth in <strong>the</strong><br />

universe and <strong>the</strong> complexities<br />

of life on our own planet that<br />

informs how we search for it<br />

in <strong>the</strong> universe. He dismisses<br />

most <strong>the</strong>ories about aliens<br />

among us. How could beings<br />

who are obviously much<br />

more advanced than we can<br />

imagine, be content to doodle<br />

crop circles or even abduct<br />

a few humans Shostak reminds<br />

us that science needs<br />

facts. Finding a signal would<br />

be <strong>the</strong> proof we need. As<br />

our technology improves so


T H E E X P L O R E R S C L U B c h a p t e r c h a i r s<br />

46 east 70th street, New York, NY 10021 I 212-628-8383 I www.<strong>explorers</strong>.org<br />

National chapter chairs<br />

interNational chapter chairs<br />

Alaska<br />

John J. Kelley, Ph.D.<br />

Tel: 907-479-5989<br />

Fax: 907-479-5990<br />

ffjjk@uaf.edu<br />

Atlanta<br />

Roy Alexander Wallace<br />

Tel: 404-237-5098<br />

Fax: 404-231-5228<br />

awallace3@bellsouth.net<br />

Central Florida<br />

G. Michael Harris<br />

Tel: 727-584-2883<br />

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Fax: 312-280-7326<br />

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Joseph E. Ricketts<br />

Tel/Fax: 937-885-2477<br />

jer937@aol.com<br />

Greater Piedmont<br />

John Adams Hodge<br />

Tel: 803-779-3080<br />

Fax: 803-765-1243<br />

jhodge@hsblawfirm.com<br />

Jupiter Florida<br />

Rosemarie Twinam<br />

Tel: 772-219-1970<br />

Fax: 772-283-3497<br />

RTwinam@aol.com<br />

New England<br />

Gregory Deyermenjian<br />

Tel: 978-927-8827, ext. 128<br />

Fax: 978-927-9182<br />

paititi@alumni.clarku.edu<br />

North Pacific Alaska<br />

Mead Treadwell<br />

Tel: 907-258-7764<br />

Fax: 907-258-7768<br />

meadwell@alaska.net<br />

Nor<strong>the</strong>rn California<br />

Alan H. Nichols, J.D., D.S.<br />

Tel: 415-789-9348<br />

Fax: 415-789-9348<br />

nicholsalan9@gmail.com<br />

Pacific Northwest<br />

Ed Sobey, Ph.D.<br />

Tel: 206-240-1516<br />

ed.sobey@gmail.com<br />

Philadelphia<br />

Doug Soroka<br />

Tel: 215-257-4588<br />

dsoroka@errc.ars.usda.gov<br />

Rocky Mountain<br />

William F. Schoeberlein<br />

Tel: 303-526-0505<br />

Fax: 303-526-5171<br />

billschoeberlein@comcast.net<br />

San Diego<br />

Capt. Robert “Rio” Hahn<br />

Tel: 760-723-2318<br />

Fax: 760-723-3326<br />

rio@adventure.org<br />

Sou<strong>the</strong>rn California<br />

David A. Dolan, FRGS<br />

Tel. 949-307-9182<br />

daviddolan@aol.com<br />

Sou<strong>the</strong>rn Florida<br />

Pamela L. Stephany<br />

954-568-5938<br />

pamstephany@aol.com<br />

Southwest<br />

Brian Hanson (Chapter Liaison)<br />

Tel: 512-266-7851<br />

brianphanson@sbcglobal.net<br />

Southwest Florida<br />

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Tel: 727-204-4550<br />

otexplorer@gmail.com<br />

St. Louis<br />

Mabel Purkerson, M.D.<br />

Tel: 314-994-1649<br />

purkerm@msnotes.wustl.edu<br />

Texas<br />

C. William Steele<br />

Tel: 214-770-4712<br />

Fax: 972-580-7870<br />

speleosteele@tx.rr.com<br />

Washington, DC<br />

Polly A. Penhale, Ph.D.<br />

Tel: 703-292-7420<br />

Fax: 703-292-9080<br />

papenhale@yahoo.com<br />

Argentina<br />

Hugo Castello, Ph.D.<br />

Fax: 54 11 4 982 5243/4494<br />

hucastel@mail.retina.ar<br />

Australia-New Zealand<br />

Christopher A. Bray<br />

Tel: 61-403-823-418<br />

chris@chrisbray.net<br />

Canadian<br />

Amanda S. Glickman<br />

Tel: 250-202-2760<br />

amanda@paparumba.org<br />

www.<strong>explorers</strong>club.ca<br />

East Asia<br />

Dr. Michael J. Moser<br />

mmoser@omm.com<br />

Great Britain<br />

Barry L. Moss<br />

Tel: 44 020 8992 7178<br />

barola2780@aol.com<br />

Iceland<br />

Haraldur Örn Ólafsson<br />

Tel: +354 545 8551<br />

Fax: +354 562 1289<br />

haraldur.orn.olafsson@ivr.stjr.is<br />

Norway<br />

Hans-Erik Hansen<br />

Home Tel: 47 22-458-205<br />

Work Tel: 47 67-138-559<br />

hans-e-h@online.no<br />

Poland<br />

Monika M. Rogozinska<br />

Tel: 48-22-8484630<br />

Fax: 48-22-8-484630<br />

m.rogozinska@rp.pl<br />

Russia<br />

Alexander Borodin<br />

Tel: 7-095-973-2415<br />

Alexanderb@sibneft.ru<br />

South Asia<br />

Mandip S. Soin<br />

Tel: 91-11- 26460244<br />

Fax: 91-11-26460245<br />

mandipsinghsoin@gmail.com<br />

Western Europe<br />

Robert E. Roe<strong>the</strong>nmund<br />

Tel: 49-173-611-66-55<br />

rroeth1@attglobal.net


ensure a future for <strong>the</strong> world<br />

center for exploration!<br />

REVIEWS<br />

do our chances of a discovery.<br />

But what, he asks, would be<br />

our reaction if SETI picked up a<br />

true signal It will be, he warns,<br />

a profound moment for all humanity.<br />

This is an engaging and<br />

thought-provoking book that will<br />

have us all looking up into <strong>the</strong><br />

night sky with renewed curiosity,<br />

understanding, and wonder.<br />

<strong>The</strong> Lowell Thomas Building<br />

buy a brick campaign<br />

Founded in 1904 “to promote exploration by all<br />

means possible,” <strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong> © has become<br />

<strong>the</strong> premier resource for expedition planning and research.<br />

This fabled venue has also played a primary<br />

role for those pushing <strong>the</strong> limits of knowledge and<br />

human endurance as a place to share <strong>the</strong> results of<br />

<strong>the</strong>ir expeditions with <strong>the</strong> greater public.<br />

Today, we have embarked on a multiphase restoration<br />

of our historic headquarters and <strong>the</strong> extraordinary<br />

archives it houses—phase 1 will cost an estimated<br />

$1.5 million. To underwrite this effort, we are offering<br />

for sale “virtual bricks.” <strong>The</strong> purchase of bricks—which<br />

cost $50 each—will enable us to procure <strong>the</strong> necessary<br />

materials and expertise to carry out this important<br />

project. Directors and Officers of <strong>the</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> <strong>Club</strong><br />

have already purchased more than $1,200 worth of<br />

bricks toward <strong>the</strong> capital campaign, which has been<br />

generously funded by a $300,000 grant from <strong>the</strong><br />

estate of Richard H. Olson (FN’79). To learn more,<br />

please contact committee co-chairs President Lorie<br />

M.L. Karnath or Director Will Harte at 212-628-8383,<br />

or e-mail: president@<strong>explorers</strong>.org.<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> club<br />

46 East 70th Street, New York, NY 10021<br />

212-628-8383 www.<strong>explorers</strong>.org<br />

Blood River<br />

A Journey to Africa’s Broken Heart<br />

by Tim Butcher<br />

384 pp • New York: Grove Press, 2008<br />

• ISBN-10: 0802118771, ISBN-13:978-<br />

0802118776 • $25<br />

London Daily Telegraph correspondent<br />

Tim Butcher’s new<br />

book, Blood River: A Journey to<br />

Africa’s Broken Heart, explores<br />

a modern-day blank spot; not<br />

<strong>the</strong> geographical swaths of <strong>the</strong><br />

last century, ra<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong> darker<br />

depths of humanity. In 2000,<br />

against <strong>the</strong> wishes of everyone<br />

he knew, Butcher embarked on<br />

a perilous journey to retrace<br />

<strong>the</strong> route of Livingstone along<br />

<strong>the</strong> Congo. <strong>The</strong> reason for his


REVIEWS<br />

suicidal journey was that he<br />

“wanted to do…something that<br />

had not been done for decades<br />

to draw toge<strong>the</strong>r <strong>the</strong> Congo’s<br />

fractious whole by travelling<br />

Stanley’s 3,000-kilometer route<br />

from one side to <strong>the</strong> o<strong>the</strong>r.” <strong>The</strong><br />

Congo—along with <strong>the</strong> Amazon,<br />

Earth’s lungs—is a repository<br />

of countless species hidden<br />

beneath its vast green canopy<br />

and a rich storehouse of cobalt,<br />

diamonds, gold, and timber. It<br />

has been engulfed for decades<br />

in a paroxysm of brutality. <strong>The</strong><br />

Congo of Stanley’s 1877 expedition<br />

and of Butcher’s own<br />

mo<strong>the</strong>r’s 1950s idyllic train trip<br />

across <strong>the</strong> country is long gone.<br />

Years of war have destroyed <strong>the</strong><br />

infrastructure of <strong>the</strong> country.<br />

<strong>The</strong> poor are desperately poor;<br />

<strong>the</strong> rich have guns and foreign<br />

bank accounts. Life has little<br />

value. <strong>The</strong> dead lie unburied.<br />

You know things are going<br />

to be bad from <strong>the</strong> outset. <strong>The</strong><br />

Congo airport Butcher lands in<br />

is a real-life portal to hell. His<br />

entire trip is one long terror ride<br />

through regions ruled by ruthless<br />

drugged young fighters<br />

who would like nothing better<br />

than to shoot him for his shoes.<br />

Yet amid <strong>the</strong> despair, he meets<br />

a number of good souls who<br />

help him through some very<br />

rough patches. <strong>The</strong> Congo he<br />

portrays is a forlorn land with<br />

crumbling memories of a better<br />

place and time: a train station<br />

with no trains, a villa with no<br />

doors or windows, a school<br />

without children. “It is a terrible<br />

place where terrible things happen,”<br />

a Congolese priest told<br />

him. <strong>The</strong> only hope is that this<br />

journey took place in 2000 during<br />

<strong>the</strong> civil war and perhaps<br />

things are better now.<br />

T HE E X PL OR E RS CLUB<br />

LEGACY SOCIETY<br />

Thank you for your support!<br />

Robert J. Atwater<br />

Capt. Norman L. Baker<br />

Barbara Ballard<br />

Robert D. Ballard, Ph.D.<br />

Samuel B. Ballen<br />

Mark Gregory Bayuk<br />

Daniel A. Bennett<br />

Josh Bernstein<br />

John R. Bockstoce, D.Phil.<br />

Bjorn G. Bolstad<br />

Capt. Bruce M. Bongar, Ph.D.<br />

Garrett R. Bowden<br />

Harry Davis Brooks<br />

Lt. Col. Jewell Richard Browder*<br />

August “Augie” Brown<br />

John C.D. Bruno<br />

Lee R. Bynum*<br />

Virginia Castagnola Hunter<br />

Julianne M. Chase, Ph.D.<br />

Maj. Gen. Arthur W. Clark,<br />

USAF (Ret.)<br />

Leslie E. Colby<br />

Jonathan M. Conrad<br />

Ca<strong>the</strong>rine Nixon Cooke<br />

Constance Difede<br />

Mr. & Mrs. James Donovan<br />

Col. William H. Dribben, USA<br />

(Ret.)*<br />

Sylvia A. Earle, Ph.D.<br />

Lee M. Elman<br />

Michael L. Finn<br />

Robert L. Fisher, Ph.D.<br />

John W. Flint<br />

Kay Foster<br />

James M. Fowler<br />

W. Roger Fry<br />

Alfred C. Glassell, Jr.<br />

George W. Gowen<br />

Randall A. Greene<br />

Jean Charles Michel Guite<br />

Capt. Robert “Rio” Hahn<br />

Allan C. Hamilton<br />

Scott W. Hamilton<br />

O. Winston “Bud” Hampton,<br />

Ph.D.<br />

Brian P. Hanson<br />

James H. Hardy, M.D.<br />

Judith Heath<br />

Robert A. Hemm<br />

Gary “Doc” Hermalyn, Ph.D.<br />

Lotsie Hermann Holton<br />

Charles B. Huestis<br />

Robert Edgar Hyman<br />

J.P. Morgan Charitable Trust<br />

Robert M. Jackson, M.D.<br />

Kenneth M. Kamler, M.D.<br />

Prince Joli Kansil<br />

Lorie M.L. Karnath<br />

Anthony G. Kehle, III<br />

Anne B. Keiser<br />

Kathryn Kiplinger<br />

Thomas R. Kuhns, M.D.<br />

Hannah B. Kurzweil<br />

for additional<br />

information contact<br />

Carl C. Landegger<br />

Michael S. Levin<br />

Florence Lewisohn Trust<br />

J. Roland Lieber<br />

Michael Luzich<br />

James E. Lockwood, Jr.*<br />

Jose Loeb<br />

John H. Loret, Ph.D., D.Sc.<br />

Margaret D. Lowman, Ph.D.<br />

Robert H. Malott<br />

Leslie Mandel<br />

Robert E. McCarthy*<br />

George E. McCown<br />

Capt. Alfred S. McLaren, Ph.D.,<br />

USN (Ret.)<br />

Lorus T. Milne, Ph.D.<br />

James M. Mitchelhill*<br />

Arnold H. Neis<br />

Walter P. Noonan<br />

Martin T. Nweeia, D.D.S.<br />

Dr. John W. Olsen<br />

Kathleen Parker<br />

Alese & Morton Pechter<br />

William E. Phillips<br />

Prof. Mabel L. Purkerson, M.D.<br />

Roland R. Puton<br />

Dimitri Rebikoff*<br />

John T. Reilly, Ph.D.<br />

Adrian Richards, Ph.D.<br />

Bruce E. Rippeteau, Ph.D.<br />

Merle Greene Robertson, Ph.D.<br />

Otto E. Roe<strong>the</strong>nmund<br />

James Beeland Rogers, Jr.<br />

Rudy L. Ruggles, Jr.<br />

Gene M. Rurka<br />

Avery B. Russell<br />

David J. Saul, Ph.D.<br />

Willets H. Sawyer, III<br />

A. Harvey Schreter*<br />

Mr. & Mrs. Donald Segur<br />

Walter Shropshire, Jr., Ph.D.,<br />

M.Div.<br />

<strong>The</strong>odore M. Siouris<br />

William J. L. Sladen, M.D., D.Phil.<br />

Susan Deborah Smilow<br />

Sally A. Spencer<br />

Pamela L. Stephany<br />

Ronnie & Allan Streichler<br />

Arthur O. Sulzberger<br />

Vernon F. Taylor, III<br />

Mitchell Terk, M.D.<br />

C. Frederick Thompson, II<br />

James “Buddy” Thompson<br />

Marc Verstraete Van de Weyer<br />

Robert C. Vaughn<br />

Ann Marks Volkwein<br />

Leonard A. Weakley, Jr.<br />

William G. Wellington, Ph.D.<br />

Robert H. Whitby<br />

Julius Wile*<br />

Holly Williams<br />

Francis A. Wodal*<br />

* Deceased<br />

<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> club<br />

46 East 70th Street<br />

New York, NY 10021<br />

212-628-8383<br />

development@<strong>explorers</strong>.org


WHAT WERE THEY THINKING<br />

great moments in exploration as told to Jim Clash<br />

Going Supersonic<br />

with Andrew Green<br />

Fifty years after Chuck Yeager broke <strong>the</strong> sound barrier<br />

in an airplane, Andrew Green did it in a car. On<br />

October 15, 1997, he set a land-speed record of 763.035<br />

mph Piloting ThrustSSC down a measured mile (and back,<br />

within an hour) at Nevada’s Black Rock Desert. We caught<br />

up with <strong>the</strong> RAF pilot, 47, who is preparing to break his<br />

own record in ano<strong>the</strong>r car, Bloodhound, in 2011.<br />

JC: Take us back to your record day.<br />

AG: We’re at <strong>the</strong> end of a huge engineering<br />

project. Everybody has done <strong>the</strong>ir bit, and I have<br />

to do mine: Get <strong>the</strong> car through <strong>the</strong> first measured<br />

mile supersonic, <strong>the</strong>n help <strong>the</strong> guys turn it<br />

around and drive it back through <strong>the</strong> mile again<br />

supersonically, all within an hour.<br />

JC: You had broken <strong>the</strong> land-speed record two<br />

days earlier, but didn’t get <strong>the</strong> car turned around<br />

fast enough for it to count, right<br />

AG: We missed by 49 seconds! This time it went<br />

perfectly. We had 8 minutes to spare.<br />

JC: What is it like when you know you’ve done it<br />

AG: Once I have <strong>the</strong> car going back [up <strong>the</strong><br />

mile course] supersonically, with both afterburners<br />

in, I’m looking at speed. Apart from<br />

timekeepers—who aren’t talking—I’m <strong>the</strong> only<br />

person who knows we’ve achieved it. But, of<br />

course, I’m still driving over 700 mph, so I’m focusing<br />

on delivering <strong>the</strong> last bit of <strong>the</strong> contract.<br />

JC: Surprised your mark has lasted 12 years<br />

AG: We were genuinely concerned we might have<br />

killed off <strong>the</strong> record [by setting <strong>the</strong> bar so high].<br />

I am delighted <strong>the</strong>re are three or four teams now,<br />

including ourselves, having a go at it.<br />

JC: What challenges does 1,000 mph present<br />

AG: <strong>The</strong> power required goes up with <strong>the</strong> cube of<br />

speed, so if you’re going 30 percent faster you<br />

need at least twice as much power. <strong>The</strong> load on<br />

<strong>the</strong> wheels goes up to 50,000 times <strong>the</strong> force<br />

of gravity, so we’ve got to build wheels that can<br />

handle that. We will need to keep Bloodhound<br />

on <strong>the</strong> ground from slow speeds to Mach 1.4.<br />

JC: Ever fear for your life<br />

AG: Yea, every time I do <strong>the</strong> Cresta Run [St.<br />

Moritz skeleton sled race].<br />

More of Jim Clash’s columns and videos can be found at www.<br />

forbes.com/to<strong>the</strong>limits or www.youtube.com/jimclash.<br />

64


<strong>the</strong> <strong>explorers</strong> <strong>journal</strong><br />

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From vast ocean depths to<br />

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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Explorers</strong> Journal offers<br />

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those pushing <strong>the</strong> limits<br />

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Founded in 1904 to promote<br />

exploration “by all means<br />

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<strong>Club</strong> is an international<br />

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<strong>the</strong> advancement of field<br />

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inquiry. Among our members<br />

are leading pioneers in<br />

oceanography, mountaineering,<br />

archaeology, and <strong>the</strong> planetary<br />

and environmental sciences.<br />

image by Cristian Donoso, diving in western patagonia


ed viesturs<br />

High-altitude mountaineer.<br />

Eco-conscious philanthropist.<br />

Summited <strong>the</strong> world’s 14 tallest<br />

peaks, without supplemental oxygen.<br />

A man on a mission.<br />

Obviously, he’s not out of breath.<br />

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