Byrd’s Men Make Hazardous Trip Amid Icy Traps

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 810, 2 November 1929, Page 18

Byrd’s Men Make Hazardous Trip Amid Icy Traps

Treacherous Bridges Over Hollow Waste PERILS OF ANTARCTICA By RUSSELL OWEN Copyrighted, 1928, by the “New York Times 1 ’ company and the St. Louis “PostDispatch.” Ail rights for publication reserved throughout the world. Wireless to the “New York Times.” fßeceived 9.5 a.m.) BAY OF WHALES, Thurs. Messages from the supporting party, including Joe De Ganahl’s description of their two days in a erevassed area, show that they have taken their loads over the most dangerous part of the trail. When they return, it will be with lighter sledges, for they took through that dangerous region supplies for Depot 4, at 81 degrees 45 minutes south. There they turn back. Apparently the party found much worse travelling than did Captain Amundsen on his journey 17 years ago, for Amundsen went through the crevassed area three times when visability was poor, and without much trouble. A trip back to the northern edge to leave a warning for the “snowmobile” was made at Byrd’s order, for although hw had given instructions that the machine was not to go so far, he was afraid that they might be carried away by zeal and attempt too much. It was evident that no machine could pass such a treacherous and broken area. NEW FISSURES OPEN De Ganahl, who is navigator of the supporting sledge party, sent the following radio from just south of latitude 18: “The peaceful Barrier showed its sternest side when the monotony of 160 miles’ unexciting sledges was broken by efforts to penetrate a maze of crevasses covered chasms and hollow haycocks eleven miles south of Depot 3. Tents were pitched tonight between two pitfalls three miles east of the scene of our escapes from whatever Is below the countless hollow crusts over which we passed. The Barrier trembles and roars occasion-

ally, as new traps open in this area, where the pressure of ice is equalised.

“From 81 degrees south this morning a long line of knolls, jagged peaks, and rolling domes glistened majestically on the crest of the hilltop, stretching east and west. We had gone five miles when Bursey, who was loading a roped caravan, swung his sled to a halt. His dogs were on the roof of a round hollow pit 50 feet in diameter. There were many such invisible caverns on the ascent of the hill, some filled and some bridged with snow. Evidently the craters of the haycocks are opened by released pressure. A FANTASTIC SPECTACLE

“Five miles of dodging and rushing brought us to a stop. To south and west were graceful doms, fantastic peaks, and the black shadows of ugly and forbidding lines of heaved-up ice. r “o the east, a deep valley was crossed arid recrossed by scores of great depressions that we had learned to respect.

“Well-roped, we planned a short reconnaissance on foot, Walden stepped away from his sled into a crevasse and sank down to the waist. He was pulled out again, and went down into a second. We reached a hilltop ridge running southwest between villages of haycocks. We proceeded with the teams. In five minutes we were shut in by hollow domes. With every step on a thin, trembling roof, we crossed a safelooking ridge and slid down ten feet from an open hole with blackness for Its bottom, and turned the teams to the west. Bursey slipped over the brink of the pit as we crossed the narrow bridge between it and the Haycocks, but the rope dragged him back. “There was a 100-foot hole to the left, and countless haycocks to the right. We followed a narrow highway west till a wide, thinly-covered crevasse blocked our path to the hopeless area ahead. There was no room to turn the team between the haycocks.

‘‘Braathen, roped and on skies, tested the largest, and we rushed the dogs around and over the dome to retrace our steps a few hundred yards. Bursey stopped to fix his harness, and the surface sank under him. Braathen’s sled-teams were hurried forward, and pulled him to a thicker roof.

“The route flag slipped through into a space below. Everything was hollow. But Braathen’s experienced short dodges brought us safely around. TREACHEROUS AREA

“A day of perilous reconnoitering over a valley checquered with crevasses and a mountain of broken ice pitted and honeycombed by pressure brought us to the firm Barrier at midnight today, just as the fog closed in on what we believe is the most treacherous area ever crossed in the Antarctic. Great upheavals have taken place here since Amundsen's time. Nothing he describes can compare with the last 10 miles of our journey. “It was a restless sleep for all, for every few hours we were awakened by thunder announcing the birth of some new crevasse, and shaking the hollow snow beneath us. “After an early breakfast, Bursey and Braathen retraced their steps to the northern limit of the erevassed region to place a warning on the Barrier for the ‘snowmobile.’ Then Walden, Braathen and I, roped and on skis, worked our way over and around the crevasses to the southeast, hoping to find an opening in the hopeless-looking range to the South. “From a high ridge, we had glimpses of firm barrier, but three miles of

pitted mountain lay before us. After lunch, Braathen, Bursey and I proceeded on skis in an effort to thread our way through between the open holes, which are connected by covered crevasses everywhere. On approaching the range, we finally found a narrow ridge between the open chasms leading to a network of canyons on the summit of a large hollow area, and camouflaged by a thin roof of ice. “In three hours we marked a zigzag trail of a mile and a-half through the heart of the ridge, and returned with doubts about our sledges getting over 'the dubious bridges, sharp boulders and steep inclines; but there was no other way through, the hills being impassable to the east and west. DOGS SENSE DANGER “Team and men, roped separately, followed our ragged line of flags. It was a time for expert driving and obedient dogs. The veteran, Walden, said he had never seen anything like it, and the bridges were taxed to the limit. The dogs sensed danger, and time and again disappeared in the crevasses and were hauled out by their team-mates. Bursey and his leader, St. Lunaire, worked in perfect accord, when a few feet to the right or the left wo'uld mean dangling the sled and driver. Walden’s foresight, Braathen’s care, and Bursey’s driving and luck brought us to the end of the range, and to a wide open road bordered by crevasses, leading down to safe ground and a clean trail toward the midnight sun. We stopped and turned to view the area we had crossed before the fog set in. It seemed as if the gods had been playing with chalk cliffs, and had left them scattered and broken on the Barrier floor.”