KNIGHT ERRANT OF ANTARCTICA

Press, Volume C, Issue 29518, 20 May 1961, Page 3

KNIGHT ERRANT OF ANTARCTICA

[Reviewed by K.J.i No Latitude For Error. By Sir Edmund Hillary. Hodder and Stoughton. 255p.p. Despite some criticism from certain quarters overseas, this is a book that every New Zealander can read with pride. Characterised by a simple but colourful style, in contrast with the terseness of the official account “The Crossing of Antarctica” (to which Sir Edmund Hillary contributed three chapters), it enables the reader to live what is in effect a tale of high adventure. True, one may become a little irritated as each large crevasse that held up the party is almost invariably described as “a beauty,” but this is quickly forgotten as the man in one of them complains that he “doesn’t like the view much.” Thus, although the pedant may object to small points of style, anyone with an ounce of spirit cannot but be swept along by the dynamic energy of this knight errant of the Antarctic just as he swept his battered farmtractor train with few reserves across formidable crevasses to his ultimate objective. From the outset, this ultimate objective was something which went far beyond the immediate plans of the Trans-Antarctic Expedition. From the moment that Hillary “discovered to my own surprise, that my own country claimed jurisdiction over a large slice of Antarctica called the Ross Sea Dependency,” his whole approach was transformed. "I now became convinced that irrespective of any participation in the Trans-Antarctie crossing, it was up to New Zealand to initiate scientific and geographical exploration in its own chunk of the southern continent.”

Hillary’s personal objectives, therefore, were conceived on a grand scale. First in importance, he was determined to fulfil and overfulfil his commitments to the Trans-Antarctic expedition. Alongside this was the exploration and scientific work to be undertaken by his associated parties, and thirdly, overshadowing both these objectives in drama, he intended to have a “jolly good go” at a “jaunt” to the South Pole. From the initial planning stages of the expedition, therefore, there were differences in aim and objective between Hillary and Fuchs. But could one have expected anything else? Hillary freely admits “I have never suffered direction easily.” and, even more to the point “I have never needed a spate of excuses scientific or otherwise before I considered a job worth doing.” By contrast with this, it is difficult to avoid the im-

pression that Fuchs is es-| sentially a scientist rather) than an explorer and that; this particular “experiment” merely happened to take place in the Antarctic. The Trans-Antarctic Expedition had a job to do, to measure the depth and constitution of 2000 miles of ice, everything else was secondary. In these terms, the “jaunt” of Hillary to the pole to see a cowboy film is obviously open to censure. Despite the fact that he had more than fulfilled his allotted tasks, if he had met disaster, he could conceivably have prejudiced the chances of the whole expedition. To judge him in these terms, however, is almost equivalent to saying that Vice-Admiral Nelson should not have put his telescope to his blind eye at the Battle of Copenhagen, for Hillary is a man of no common mettle.

At the opening of the book, he is seen stomping lecture platforms raising money, prodding the government, planning, and welding his party into a team. Later, we see him approving in true New Zealand fashion as the captain of the Theron backs the ship into an iceflow to straighten a buckled rudder; fuming at wasted time; impatient, dynamic and always scheming, planning, improvising. On the trip to the Pole he seems to be everywhere at once, cooking, rousing his tired team, navigating, rescuing tractors from crevasses and, ■ inevitably again,—improvising. Clearly it is nothing less than his own stubborn determination which takes his team through to the Pole, though with justice, he pays generous tributes to his mechanics and the incredible Fergusons. It matters little what use, if any, the trip from Depot 700 to the Pole fulfilled, for this is a thrilling tale of human endeavour which will live in the annals of Antarctic history alongside tales of Scott, Shackleton and the early pioneers, for despite special radio programmes from home, delivery of mail (including a letter posted only two days before in Auckland), plastic sledge runners and terylene ropes, this is an epic tale. If it serves to heighten our admiration for the old explorers it also underlines the fact that their tradition is kept alive by men of the stamp of Sir Edmund Hillary.

In these terms, criticisms of relations between Hillary and Fuchs, morbid examinations of their outlooks and objectives, is carping. Both had their strong points and faults, and on their joint trip from Depot 700 to Scott Base it seems that not a few of these were complementary. It is more important. however, that both achieved their separate aims, and, if it is thought by some that Sir Edmund Hillary achieved his aim at the cost of undue risks and to little point, it is fortunately still true today as it was of old that “nothing succeeds like success”.

If the book receives a well deserved second impression, a few minor errors and omissions should be corrected, e.g. the picture opposite page 176, read Weasel for Beaver. It would be useful if the illustrations were placed nearer to the appropriate text and a linear scale would help on the maps.