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North Pole Solo - Ben Saunders |
Readjustment - 0602
I was hurtling around Richmond Park on my mountain bike a few days ago when my mobile (cell phone, for the American contingent) rang. It was Christian de Marliave of Cerpolex, the Paris-based firm that handled my expedition logistics from the Russian side this spring.'On your BIKE?!', he exclaimed, 'I suppose your legs think they are still skiing, eh?'
I think he might be right. Anyway, 'how does it feel to be back?' has definitely superceded 'why?' as the question I'm most often asked. Neither are particularly easy to answer, but I'll have a stab at the first one...
More than ever, it feels like I've never even been away. Especially now the beard is a merely stubbly incarnation of its former self, and the tan lines have evened out. Trying to get to sleep in the dark is weird. Sitting down to answer the call of nature still feels luxurious. I'm slowly re-mastering the use of the knife and fork. On the whole, though, life is much the same as it always was. How have I changed? That's way more difficult. I think it's probably too early to tell - I'm still spending rather a lot time in cloud cuckoo land. I'll come back to that one...
The one thing that will be changing is this website. As you'll have surmised from the lack of recent updates, my day to day life is now rather less interesting than it was on the ice. (Made 0.3 nautical miles today and reached the coffee shop by 1530UTC. Encountered nasty area of puddles, but managed to skirt around. No sign of polar bear activity.) This site (sercotransarctic.com) will change to being a static showcase for the expedition, with some decent resolution photos, a bit of video, and a few other things we're working on. My old site (bensaunders.com) will be resurrected as a semi-regularly updated blog, for the terminally addicted readers who fancy reading about the build-up to the next expedition...
Home sweet home - 0518
Well, it wasn't just unusually warm in the high arctic. Ottawa was glorious. The welcome, the weather, the people, the tulips. I had a manic day of interviews with the Canadian press on Sunday (that's me on the front page of Monday's Ottawa Citizen!) and flew back to Heathrow overnight. A few more manic interviews today, a bit of time spent in a traffic jam and suddenly I'm sitting here at my computer back in London. In some ways it feels like I've never been away; in others I feel like I've just dropped in from the planet Zarg.London seems really grimy - I never remembered it this way. The constant drone of the city is almost unbearable - the crawling traffic, the antique buses belching black smoke, the trains, the sirens, the car alarms, a million noisy conversations in a few square miles. There's dust everywhere. It's unbearably warm. My senses are amplified - it's like watching a tv that needs the brightness, contrast, colour and volume turning down.
In many ways I've come back to a life that has been put on hold. The same piles of paper on my desk, emails waiting to be answered, meetings to arrange, a fast filling diary. I'd forgotten how much stuff I own and I'd definitely forgotten just how much paperwork this expedition has generated. My filing cabinet is bursting, folders are bulging, trays are overflowing and barely a few square inches of desk are showing under the mess. Bags of clothing and equipment are piled on the floor, many full of stinking expedition kit that I can hardly bring myself to open. Especially in this heat.
I feel like I've come back to an overgrown garden that needs weeding, yet the last thing I want to do is put on my gardening gloves.
Of course, like a day on the ice, it's not all bad. Valeria's sister Tete and her boyfriend Pablo are here and Tete's cooking a celebratory spanish omelete (tortilla espanola) as I type. Que bien!
It might surprise you to know that I'm missing the ice already. Terribly. If I could be instantly transported back to my tent on the pack ice, would I do it? It's a tough one, and I'll let you know after the tortilla, a beer, a bubble bath and the first night back in my bed for a quarter of a year...
Terra Firma! - 0515
For the first time in ten weeks, I'm on dry land. My runway was good enough, and Kenn Borek Air's Troy, Monica and Dave did a fantastic job in getting me back to Resolute Bay in northern Canada.I'm in a hurry as I have to make a flight to Ottawa in a couple of hours. I'll write more soon...
Ben :)
A quick update... - 0514
Oh the guilt! The shame! I often say that part of my motivation is to encourage other young people away from the tv and computer games and into the great outdoors. And how am I whiling away my last few hours (hopefully) in this incredible wilderness? Why, playing solitaire on my iPAQ, of course...Actually, that's not all I'm doing - the pilots have asked that I keep a detailed weather log for them, with all sorts of important sounding headings - 'horizon distinction' and 'contrast resolution' are my favourites. It's a glorious day at the moment, which bodes well for a pick up.
I've found the best bit of flat(ish) 'multi-year' ice I've seen in ages, I've marked out the four corners of a runway and I've flattened the lumpy bits with my snow shovel. It's just long enough, although if the pilots aren't happy with it, they'll land nearby and I'll have to leg it over.
If all goes well, they should land at 1700-1800 UTC (Greenwich Mean Time in old money). So, as I write this, I have another 6-7 hours to wait.
Hopefully my next update will be from terra firma - I haven't set foot on land for 71 days now! I'll keep you posted...
Taxi! - 0513
Who needs reality tv when you've got this expedition to follow, eh? It's all happening up here - I've been speaking with Kenn Borek Air and they're very concerned about the ice and weather conditions (join the club!)With bad weather possibly on its way, they will be flying to pick me up in the next 12 hours or so and the pressure's on for me to find a suitable landing spot asap - not easy when the ice is as bad as it is (see pic). So no sleep for Ben, sadly. It may also mean that my next update takes a little longer to come through...
Keep your fingers crossed for me - I'm feeling more than a little nervous at the moment.
B :)
Heading south - 0512
Well, things aren't much different here on the other side of the world. I'm still heading in roughly the same direction, although north has become south and east has become west, if that makes sense...I'm also living and navigating in Russian rather than Canadian time, as it means I don't have to alter my routine and that I can ski with the sun behind me, rather than walking into it (it's pretty bright up here). Of course, with 24-hour daylight, it can be whatever time I want it to be.
The weather is still glorious, but I saw an unnerving amount of open water this morning (see pic) - two enormous open leads. I'm happy to report that conditions improved throughout the day, although the ice on the whole is far from perfect. Another satisfying day in the mileage department and I'm still feeling strong, which makes it all the more frustrating that I'm not here a couple of weeks earlier. It definitely feels like I'm on the homeward stretch now - I suspected my motivation would plummet after reaching the Pole, but if anything, the reverse is true.
So what's next? I'm certainly not wandering along aimlessly - my next goal is to cover the 36 nautical miles we flew over at the start of the expedition (due to extensive areas of open water and dangerously thin ice). That takes me to 89'24. The next step is the 1,000km mark. A nice round number, which I'll pass at 89'13 (1,000km is a straight line distance and I'd guess I've covered 20-30 percent more due to the ice, open water and negative drift). After those two, we'll see how the ice looks...
Today's dedication is to Chris Hyman, Serco's CEO. I tried to call him yesterday to say thank you, but couldn't get through. The memory of him working like mad to pack my sledge during the resupply (while I was being interviewed) will live with me forever, and in so many ways sums up his involvement with, and enthusiasm for this expedition. Thank you Chris.
A HUGE thank you as well to everyone that has left messages on the site - I've only had a fraction of them passed on via the satphone and I'm grinning from ear to ear. A big hi to Dixie and to DB (I hope you're still wiggling those toes).
On top of the world! - 0511
Ninety degrees north. The axis of the earth's rotation. All the lines of longitude and all the time zones converge here. The North Geographic Pole.I've had 68 days to rehearse a speech, yet when I turned on the video camera and counted down the last few feet on my GPS, I didn't know what to say.
I still don't. I felt a huge mixture of emotions today - overwhelming joy and happiness, relief, sadness, frustration that I'm here too late in the season to reach the Canadian coastline. I thought of Dominick Arduin, who died this spring trying to reach the same point. And I thought how strange it is that there's nothing here. It's a bit of ice, just like any other.
I knew that all along, of course, but it still seemed so odd that the only proof is a number on the GPS. I sat down on my sledge and within moments I had drifted away from it. It's a cliche, but it's true - the important bit is the journey, not the destination.
And what a journey it's been so far. I've had way more than I bargained for - the conditions have been worse than ever and I've had to dig deeper than I imagined possible just to keep going. My motivation and my goals have changed drastically - at the start, this was about competition. Making a statement. I've come to realise that the only competition was with myself, and that the only thing I'm 'conquering' is my own self-doubt. The Arctic changes every year - skiing to the North Pole isn't like running the 100 metres. It's not even like climbing Everest, or skiing to the South Pole, because it's getting tougher and tougher. Making a solo and unsupported ski crossing? I'm wary of using the word impossible, but I think it comes close. I hope someone proves me wrong.
My plan now is to head as far towards Canada as I can. I'm already camped on the 'Canadian side' and my world has been turned upside down - north, south, east and west have all swapped places.
Sorry to keep you all waiting for the dispatch - I've been on the phone!!
Today is dedicated to a company, not a person - Serco. 'Thank you' doesn't seem enough. Hopefully my skiing is doing the talking...
A perfect day - 0510
First of all, it's Tony's birthday - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! Tony first emailed me, completely out of the blue, just over a year ago. At the time I mistakenly assumed he was a potential sponsor - when it turned out he didn't have any money we lost touch for a while, before finally meeting for a curry in Putney. I don't think either of us imagined so much would happen in the few short months that followed, but Tony ended up leaving his job to work full-time on this expedition. His input and support have been key - I honestly doubt I'd be here now without him and he has worked wonders in keeping this project on track despite my, and the Arctic's best attempts to mess everything up. Good job, sir!It felt like my birthday today as well - blue skies and blazing sunshine as soon as I woke up. The ice was REALLY bad for the first two hours (see pic - old, thick pack ice, huge ridges and deep snow) and then flattened out beautifully. I had some great pans this afternoon, hence the mileage (2nd highest of the expedition). To top it all off, I started drifting north last night (nearly a mile) and it hasn't stopped yet. Excellent!
I'm camped at 89'52.3", which leaves 7.7 nautical miles (14.2 km) to the Pole. At this rate, that's half a day's skiing... Watch this space!
Today is dedicated to Tony Haile - birthday boy & expedition manager extraordinaire. Thanks Tony.
Stop Press!! - 0509
Exciting news from the high Arctic! I've just had to delete my entire dispatch (moaning about the weather) and start again. Why? Because ten minutes ago, the sun came out! Typically, it only happens after I've skied for ten hours through whiteout conditions with a bitter wind and lots of snow - stick the tent up and everything improves. I can't tell you how excited I am. I'm not sure how I'll get to sleep with such a beautiful blue sky outside - I'm itching to get out and make the most of it. If it's a whiteout tomorrow morning I'm sure I'll have my biggest sense of humour failure to date...It felt colder today, with many of the leads I came across starting to freeze over. The ice conditions are a vast improvement over previous degrees, although there are still patches of really bad pack ice, with piles of blue ice blocks the size of cars.
As well as the pack ice, there's plenty of open water around at the moment and I've had a few dicey lead crossings today. The one I won't forget in a hurry involved crossing a huge lead (over 100m wide) via a string of floating 'islands'. Everything started moving as I approached the far side and I really had to hurry, leaping across gaps and twice using the sledge as a bridge. It's at times like these I wish I had a video camera strapped to my head - when things get interesting it's usually far too dangerous to stop and get the camcorder out.
I'm currently 22 nautical miles south of the Pole and should pass it on Tuesday (yes, I'll stop and take some photos!) - I'd planned to cover the last degree a little faster, but the whiteout has made speedy progress impossible.
Today is dedicated to Damien du Toit, who created this website. I'm sure I've mentioned him before, but he definitely deserves another shout :)
'For pleasure' - 0508
As I was skiing along today, I thought back to late February when Bettina, Jean-Gabriel, Wave, Frederic and I were sat in a small hotel room in Khatanga, northern Siberia. We were talking about the motivation behind our individual expeditions (I always hate trying to answer the question 'why?') and I'll remember Frederic's answer for as long as I live: 'for pleasure'. It seemed preposterous, yet of course it's absolutely true. It's easy to forget when you're tired, hungry, homesick and fed up with another day slogging through a whiteout, but expedition life has a lot going for it.I had a fantastic telephone conversation with Bettina and Jean-Gabriel last night (they reached the Pole a few days ago and are back home in Denmark now). Bettina said she was already missing 'the simple life' where all you have to worry about when you wake up is heading north. It was great to speak to people that had actually skied through the same ice and understood what I'm going through. I don't think words, photos or video could ever really convey how challenging things are this year.
They said that 89 was the easiest degree and sure enough, I had a few great pans (flat areas) this morning, although there's still a lot of open water around, and I spent ages stuck in one area that seemed to be a chain of floating, crumbling 'islands' of ice (see pic). Another day in the office...
Today's dedication is to Christian de Marliave. Merci, Criquet!
A big hi to Juliette Lloyd, Stuart McFarlane, Abigail Wright and Mark Harrop :)
There's something wrong... - 0507
...with this picture. Is the answer:a) 'Good grief! It's so warm that Ben can ski along with no hat and no gloves.'
b) 'Hahahahahaha... look at those tan lines!'
c) 'Urgh! Look at that hair. I bet it hasn't been washed for at least, ooh, 65 days.'
d) All of the above.
Clearly, the answer's d, and although I can wash my hair and iron out the tan lines on the beach, the temperature issue is a tad more worrying. I've never seen myself as an eco-warrior (my penchant for fast cars probably has something to do with that) and I've been wary of taking a stance on climate change, as I don't believe we know enough about what's going on, but it's obvious that things are changing fast. It's an issue I'll certainly be taking far more interest in...
Anyhow, on a lighter note, I saw one of the locals today. I swam across a lead wearing my drysuit this afternoon, and as I climbed out of the far side and turned to pull my sledge across, I saw something big move in the water, just where I'd been moments before. My heart missed a beat. Killer whale? Arctic shark? A wet, furry head popped out and looked me in the eye. 'Hellloooooooo!' I shouted, as if Mr. Seal was a long lost friend. He (she?) disappeared straight away. I've seen a few seals and they're usually very shy, so I was amazed when he reappeared, so close that I could've bopped him on the head with a ski pole. I tried a bit of 'ar ar ar' but got no more than a quizzical sideways glance, so I took a few photos and he watched with great interest as I stripped out of the orange suit. Finally, as I clipped my skis on, he performed a few elegant tumble turns, as if he was trying to entice me back into the sea. Amazing - it made my whole week. I'm sure it blew Mr. Seal's mind, too.
With all this excitement, I nearly forgot to complain about the weather: same as yesterday, with a bit less wind. I've forgotten what the sun looks like.
Today's dedication is to Roger Jones of Success Talks. Thanks for your help.
The last degree - 0506
There were moments earlier in the expedition when I thought getting this far would be impossible; when the Pole seemed a million miles away. Now it's less than sixty.Today I crossed the last parallel before the North Geographic Pole - 89 degrees north. Despite more of the same in the weather and ice departments, I was far happier (and drier!) as I hauled my sledge north.
I didn't sleep all that well, as the wind really picked up during the night. I was worried that I'd be blown miles backwards, but got off lightly with less than a mile of negative drift, although there seemed to be far more fresh leads today (see photo).
I was thinking a lot today about my unsuccessful 2001 attempt to reach the Pole with Pen Hadow - an experience I came away from feeling physically and mentally beaten. I wasn't man enough for such a huge challenge. I'd failed.
It took me a long time to realise how much we had actually achieved, despite not getting the glittery bit at the end. I also realised I needed to prepare better and train harder if I was going to finish the job.
I have a primary school report (age 7 or 8) which states: 'Physical Exercise: Ben is not easily motivated in this subject'. Luckily, I seemed to grow out of that phase, although I'm still useless at mental arithmetic. Today is dedicated to the training partners I've had through the years - Stefan Rogers, Dave Farnham, David Butler, Luke & Charlotte Cunliffe (and all the Sunday morning runners!), my brother, Neil Sewell, Gerry Horn, Tony Haile, Richard Hallet, and everyone else I've run, skied, lifted, rowed, cycled, roller-skied, suffered and sweated with.
I received a few of your messages via satellite phone this evening - a special hello and thank you to Tony Balch for bringing the biggest smile to my face.
And to think... - 0505
...I thought yesterday was a tough day. Today was ridiculous - right off the scale. An even, er, whiter whiteout, more snow, a change in wind direction (I'm now skiing into it), more leads, lots of negative (backwards) drift, giant pressure ridges, acres of rubble, and to top it all off (I hope you're sitting down, mum) I fell through the ice.The photo is of where it happened - the lead was completely hidden by fresh snow. Somehow it was just my right leg that went through - a lucky escape as I seemed to be scrambling over sinking ice on all fours for ages. Very scary stuff, and it left me extremely shaken up. I'm a long way from help if I get into trouble and I felt rather small and lonely as I skied along afterwards, 'gazing into the abyss of self-pity' (one of my favourite John Ridgway-isms).
Aside from the whiteout and snow, the weather has been worryingly warm lately. In my diary I have the expedition log from the 2000 Norwegian Arctic crossing (the only ever unsupported crossing, by a two-man team - no one has made it solo without support). In April, their warmest day was -11 degrees C. Mine was -2. Today it's -5, whereas on 5th May 2000 it was -17 and the 6th was -20. Hmmm.
Anyway, it's not all doom and gloom. I had my telepathic mp3 player on today (I have three mp3 players, with 30 hours of music - the telepathic one is stuck in 'shuffle' mode but has a spooky knack of finding tunes to suit my mood) and it came up with a song by Anastacia called 'You'll never be alone'. Ordinarily, this would have me reaching for the sick bag, but today it worked wonders.
Today is dedicated to everyone at KTB PR, not least the fabulous Kate herself! Thanks for all your support.
A big hi also to everyone at Wishaw Academy Primary School - thanks for the messages!
Greyout - 0504
More of the same really. The ice has been terrible - loads of new pack ice and pressure ridges (not a lot of water, thankfully) and as you can see, I wasn't blessed with particularly good views for nine out of the ten hours I was on my feet. The sun obviously took pity on me and decided to pop out and say hello at the end of the day.On the bright side, whiteouts are never without their comedy moments and today's came at my second rest stop, three hours into the day. My normal routine is to stick my ski poles into the snow, zip up my jacket, put my hood up, reverse a couple of paces and sit down on the sledge to eat/drink. As I took the weight off my feet, it rapidly became apparent that my sledge was parked at the top of a slope, and we both slid backwards at breackneck speed for a few seconds - I was laughing out loud as we finally crashed into a bank of snow. It's good to see my sledge hasn't lost his sense of humour after so much abuse...
Right now I can see the sun through the fabric of the tent, although it's still snowing hard. Hopefully it'll stay sunny tomorrow.
As I tried to daydream my way out of the day's oppressive gloom, I remembered a trip I took with my girlfriend to New York last summer (we were there for the blackout - the exact opposite of today, I suppose). Today is dedicated to everyone that made it so special - Brian, Susan, Robbie & Stevie Herring, Tom & Tina Sjogren, Jeremy Garfield-Davies, Mike Kobold, Andy Revkin of the New York Times and Jason & Ciry Deissl-Gibbs.
Into the mist... - 0503
Today wasn't much fun at all and at times I came perilously close to a severe sense of humour failure. It snowed heavily during the night. 'Oh well', I thought, as I trudged through the fresh snow, 'at least the ice is pretty good'. Ten minutes later I came across the first lead (see pic). 'Oh well', I thought, as I skied east looking for a point to cross, 'at least the sun's shining'. Seconds later, a huge bank of cloud rolled in and it started snowing again - flakes so big that I'm sure I could have bagged them up and sold them as Christmas decorations.I spent the next nine hours skiing through a whiteout. Stumbling is perhaps a better word - there is no shadow, no contrast and no perspective. The towering cathedral of ice you take a bearing on turns out to be a knee-high pile, the tiny ledge you're about to step off turns out to be a six foot vertical drop and the nice flat ice you're skiing towards turns out to be a wall of drifted snow. The fresh snow makes things interesting as well, by hiding things I'm quite interested in, like thin ice, or bear footprints. Ho hum.
It could have been a lot worse, though. I wound my way through some really smashed up areas of pack ice with dozens and dozens of frozen leads. A few degrees warmer and I dread to think what it might have been like...
Today is dedicated is to the American mountaineer Carlos Buhler, someone that knows all about pushing on through tough conditions. I met him a while back and we hit it off straight away. His achievements as a climber are astounding, yet he's the most modest, down to earth guy you could hope to meet, and someone I feel honoured to call a friend.
A big hi to a few people that might be reading - Tim Reeve, Bear, Shara & Jessie Grylls, Neil Laughton and Ginge Fullen.
'Will the last one to the Pole...' - 0502
'...please turn out the lights.' I heard yesterday that Bettina Aller (from Denmark) and her partner Jean-Gabriel (from France) had just reached the Pole (congratulations guys!!) We started at the same time and position but Bettina's plan was to have three resupplies, meaning they had 40-50kg sledges at the start, compared to my 180+kg, and were able to travel faster through the really bad ice early on.This was Bettina's third attempt to reach the Pole on foot, and if anyone deserved to get there, she did. They're due to fly back to Khatanga via helicopter and I'm half wondering if they'll pass over me (assuming they know my position). Anyhow, once they're back on dry land, I'll have the entire Arctic Ocean to myself for a while - an area roughly the size of the United States of America. What a thought.
Today, of course, is dedicated to Bettina and J-G. WELL DONE!!
P.S. Yesterday's tune was an oldie but goodie - Jump by Van Halen. Not a bad day today, but it clouded over a lot this evening and is snowing at the moment. It's still nice and cold, which is good - I haven't seen any open water for a while.
Reasons to be cheerful... - 0501
1) Decent ice, a few flat pans and no open water.2) The knowledge that I've skied 379 nautical miles (700km) so far.
3) Blue skies and sunshine, 24 hours a day.
4) My sledge didn't try to run me over today.
5) The fact that I'm now 'inside' 88 degrees north - less than two degrees (120 nautical miles) to the Pole.
6) Sun block - the stuff I put on my lips has a mouth-wateringly delicious coconut smell. I don't know how I've avoided eating it...
7) Polyphonic Spree - 'Reach for the Sun'.
8) I've found out where the brown stains are coming from. The what?! Well, I was reluctant to discuss this before, but I've been finding huge brown stains on my trousers recently. It turns out there was a fugitive chocolate bar hiding in my sleeping bag. Naturally I ate it, once I'd cleaned the fluff off.
9) My beard. It cracks me up every time I catch a glimpse of it (reflected in the screen of my iPAQ, for example). It's huge. Hilariously big. I feel like some crazy old fisherman, and I'm going to start losing things in it if I'm not careful.
10) The photo you've all been waiting for. Can anyone name that tune?
Today is dedicated to Neil Sewell - I hope life is treating you well, mate ('We are the pilgrims master, we shall go...')
Crash landing - 0430
There is a degree of contention in the polar world over which route to the Pole is toughest - from Canada or from Russia. Some argue that the Russian route (despite being 100 miles further) is 'easier' because the drift is 'mostly north' and the ice is flatter. This may have been the case ten years ago, but I don't believe it holds true any more.And I'm sure the Arctic is trying to back me up here, because this morning I was presented with several prime specimens of the 'flippin' huge' variety of pressure ridge. Real whoppers. To give you an idea of scale, I plonked my ski (190 cm or 6'3") next to the one in the photo.
Anyway, pressure ridges are a fact of life which ever route you take to the Pole, and crossing them is rarely easy. About three hours into the day, I climbed a real monster, hauled my sledge up and left it teetering right on the top as I clambered down the far side. I'd employed this slightly risky technique before - get to the bottom, give the rope a tug and hey presto, the sledge comes down after you. This time, I got it wrong. Halfway down, I lost my footing and felt the rope go tight and then slack again. I felt like a bomb defusal expert that had just snipped the wrong wire... I heard a rumbling behind me and like a freight train, the sledge hurtled down the ridge, knocking me over like a rag doll. After realising I was still alive, I completely lost my temper and had to resort to some emergency Bob Marley tracks I have on an mp3 player...
You'll be glad to hear that after all this, the weather and the ice are both improving.
Today is dedicated to Liv Arnesen and Ann Bancroft, who are planning on making an Arctic crossing next spring. I can't wait to pass on a few of the things I'd do differently next time...
L'Enfer du Nord - 0429
'L'Enfer du Nord' - 'the Hell of the North' is the nickname for perhaps the world's toughest one day bike race - the infamous Paris-Roubaix. Part of the reason I'm telling you this is that a British rider, Roger Hammond came third this year - the best result of his career (can you tell there was a cycling magazine on the resupply?!)The other part is because I'm experiencing my own 'enfer du nord' at the moment. I've been skiing into a bitterly cold headwind for several days now, I've been drifting back between one and two miles daily for over a week, and today the ice took a turn for the worse. Just when I should be hitting the flat stuff and making a dash for the Pole, I find myself literally on my hands and knees, battling through horrendous pack ice - mostly old, smashed up areas covered in deep, soft snow. Things were so bad this morning that it took me almost all of the first two hours just to claw back last night's backward drift.
Anyway, I've cheered up now I'm back in the tent and deep down, I know that no matter how crazy the conditions are, part of me will miss this place when I'm back home...
My girlfriend's flying to Madrid today to see her parents, so I'm going to dedicate today to them - Pedro & Maria Teresa. Hasta el verano!
A huge hi to Jessie & Alfie, George Fudge, Scot, Gloria, Cissy, Ivo and everyone else following the site!
I nearly forgot - today is day 56. Eight weeks on the ice!
So, what's the plan? - 0428
As some of you know, 'Borneo', the temporary Russian airstrip near the Pole is closing soon. The last helicopter leaves the ice on the 5th of May. Does this mean I'll be stranded? Can I reach the Pole? Can I reach Canada?No, yes and no. If/when I need picking up from the ice, it'll be via aeroplane from the Canadian side - we are chartering one of Kenn Borek's Twin Otters, which will fly out from Resolute Bay. I'm on track to reach the Pole in 10-12 day's time, and plan to carry on past the Pole towards Canada for as far as I can. A lot depends on the condition of the ice - not only for me but for the pilots, as they need a decent pan as a landing strip. At present, the end of May is the latest they are happy to fly.
Realistically, I'm now too late in the season to reach Canada on foot, thanks to a delayed start from Russia and some of the worst ice and weather conditions on record. If all had gone according to plan, I would have been at the Pole today, with the entire month of May to reach Canada. As they say, the first casualty of war is always the plan...
Today is dedicated to a few Norwegians (as I guess there are some reading this!) - Rune Gjeldnes & Torry Larsen for the inspiration, Borge Ousland for the inspiration, assistance & hospitality, Alex at Acapulka for the best sledge ever made, 'Captain' Camilla, Asnes skis, Swix ski poles, everyone at the Finse 1222 Hotel and the landlord (I've forgotten his name!) of the pub at Oslo station (he let me store my sledge there overnight!)
A big hi to everyone leaving messages on the website - as I've said before, I can't see them and rely on a few being passed on in my daily phone calls, but a few names are becoming familiar! Thank you all.
Pan-tastic! - 0427
Bad news first: 1) the fabulous bit of drift north I experienced yesterday has fizzled out and once again I'm drifting south. 2) I was skiing so hard today that I only took one photograph - this rather odd shaped lead. I meant to take an air guitar self-portrait, but that'll have to wait...The good news? The ice was the best yet - not perfect by any means, but I had some gorgeous 'multi-year' pans today (flat areas of ice that have been around for a few years & have nice smooth surfaces). Not a drop of open water either, although I crossed a huge recently frozen lead late in the day. It was a near-whiteout this morning but the sun came out in the afternoon and I ended the day skiing in sunglasses. Apparently it was around -17 degrees c. which I'd say is perfect - not too hot, not too cold.
Despite the fact that I was drifting backwards, I covered over 14 nautical miles (26km) which is fairly respectable, even if I do say so myself!
Today's dedication is to David & Rochelle - congratulations on tying the knot. Sounds like you've found a good location for the next PTC as well...
'Miracles will happen...' - 0426
'...as we drift'. Rather apt lyrics from my Song of the Day, a sublime acoustic version of Seal's Crazy.The sun was making my tent so warm last night that I fell asleep with my hat off and my sleeping bag unzipped, but something unexpected woke me up. I was shivering. The temperature had plummeted overnight - I never imagined I'd be happy to see frost on the inside of my tent again, but I was ecstatic. Sure enough, the huge patches of open water I'd camped south of were frozen solid and the ice today was so different to yesterday's disintegrating, slushy nightmare that I could have been on another planet. Accordingly, even through the ice wasn't perfect, I bashed out a decent mileage and I'm a happy chappy.
I am in a spot of trouble, though - I forgot to mention my girlfriend Valeria in the list of those that had helped arrange yesterday's resupply. Oops. Today, therefore, is dedicated to her and also to someone I remembered today (who I'm sure would be amazed that I'm citing him as a source of inspiration) - a teacher at my secondary school called Mr. Barnwell. The school had an annual sponsored walk, perhaps five or six miles through the Kent countryside and I remember Mr. Barnwell running around it. I was amazed - it seemed a scarcely credible feat of endurance. The year after (partly motivated by the fact that we were free to go home once we'd finished the walk) I ran it myself. The rest, I suppose, is history.
Well... - 0425
...I'm still here! I didn't get much sleep last night - the helicopter landed at 0130 my time and stayed for nearly an hour. It definitely rated as one of the most surreal moments of my life and it filled me with a mixture of emotions. Wave Vidmar was on board (an American adventurer aiming to reach the Pole solo). I'd heard he had an eye infection but it wasn't until I saw him squinting out of his grotesquely swollen eyelids that I realised how serious it was. He gets my rookie of the year award - I think a year or two ago he'd have made it but the conditions really are bonkers this year.Chris Hyman, Serco's CEO was on board and ended up packing my sledge while I was interviewed by a CBS News crew making a piece on climate change. All very strange!
I had stacks of presents, letters, photos and treats - I felt like a kid at Christmas and finally fell asleep at 5am after eating a huge bag of Jelly Babies (thanks Babs!)
The ice today actually seemed to be mostly water. I've never seen anything like it - leads everywhere. I'm amazed I didn't need to use the drysuit as I'd guess I crossed 20-30 open leads today. I had to retreat slightly to find somewhere safe to camp, but the weather's improved and (wait for it) I'm drifting north! Only just, but it's very welcome. Life is good.
Today is dedicated to everyone that made the resupply happen - particularly Tony, Chris, Marc and Christian.
A big hi to Sharky and to Jimmy Stokman (if I see Santa, I'll mention your name).
Visitors! - 0424
Most of today was a nightmare. Tony (my expedition manager) and Chris (Serco's CEO) arrived at Borneo, the temporary Russian airstrip near the Pole yesterday. After kitting Chris out with the latest polar clothing, the temperature turned out to be a tropical minus two degrees c. Tony said that it felt colder in London. Such high temperatures can only mean trouble when you're trying to ski across the frozen surface of an ocean, and sure enough there was a huge amount of open water today.The wind was blowing like mad when I woke up (completely boiling in my -40 sleeping bag) and it turned out to be the headwind from hell. I drifted back nearly four miles overnight and standing still today, the GPS was measuring my speed (backwards) as 0.5 knots. It snowed hard, the visibility was near zero and in the first three hours I had to swim across two leads (I fixed the drysuit, by the way!). The whole place seemed to be melting around me. I decided I'd had more than I could take - I was going to get straight on that helicopter and in two day's time I'd be in a hotel in Longyearbyen, having a hot bath and lying on the bed in a fluffy dressing gown watching MTV.
But the Arctic has a funny way of taking you right up to your breaking point and then easing off. Sure enough, as I set up camp this evening, the wind died down, the clouds parted (see pic) and the sun showed up for the first time today.
As the title suggests, I was going to write about my resupply, but it hasn't happened yet (the helicopter flew over a little while ago to pick up Wave Vidmar) so you'll have to wait until tomorrow to hear how it went...
Today is dedicated to Graham Ogle at Brenig (Graham custom made the clothing I'm wearing for this expedition - fantastic kit!)
Snowed in - 0423
The weather is going beserk. I hardly slept last night as it was so windy and I woke up to find my tent and sledge half buried in drifting snow. It's still a complete whiteout, and when I staggered a few paces away to answer the call of nature this morning I could hardly see the tent through the snowstorm. I decided to stay put - I didn't fancy trying to negotiate the same kind of ice as yesterday in these conditions. I'm also slightly concerned about the resupply flight - I'd guess the pilots wouldn't be happy flying in this, and even if they are, I need to find a suitable landing spot (not easy in near zero visibility). My food and fuel supplies aren't unlimited, so I hope things clear up soon...On a brighter note, you may be amused to learn that I have the most ridiculous tan lines ever. I took my hat off today (not something I do very often!) and looked in the tiny mirror on my compass. My nose, the top of my cheeks and the area around my eyes are really brown (my eyebrows and eyelashes have been bleached by the sun) which contrasts nicely with my greasy matted hair and pasty white forehead and neck! I think my next expedition will be to the beach.
Today is dedicated is to Mr. Yusef Kabir Muhammad - my girlfriend read me the message he left on the site (sadly, I can't actually read them, or access the internet and rely on having a few passed on via the satellite phone) and it made my day. I think it was John Lennon that said 'it's never too late to be who you always wanted to be'.
The eye of the Tiger! - 0422
I think it was the great Eddy Mercx (5 times Tour de France winner) that said if you kept hitting a stone with a hammer, you ended up with particles of metal in the stone and particles of stone in the hammer, and that the same happened with him and his bike - it was part human and he was part bicycle. What am I on about? One of my mp3 players has gone slightly haywire and what used to be 'random shuffle' mode is showing worrying signs of telepathy - it seems to be able to read my moods and respond with appropriate tunes.Just as today seemed to be turning into a repeat of yesterday (atrocious ice and weather conditions) it played Survivor's The Eye of the Tiger, a tune I didn't even know was on there.
I broke into a smile. I skied a touch faster. I even threw in a little shadow boxing now and then (although thanks to the whiteout, I had no shadow). As you can see from the photo, the ice is still really bad and I had to fight for the mileage again today, but I was way, way happier doing it.
Today's dedication is to Tete and Pablo, along with special happy birthday wishes to Stevie (sorry it's a couple of days late) - I hope you didn't hit the champagne too hard this time!!
From bad to worse - 0421
I think the Arctic wanted to show me who's really the boss today. It was certainly the worst day of the expedition and quite possibly the toughest of my entire life.The large lead I camped near last night hadn't frozen (a bad sign) and worse still, I realised I was on a 'peninsula' of ice - the lead curved away to the south west and south east. I chose south east and skied nervously along the edge of the thin ice, looking for a point to cross. Eventually I found an area I thought I might be able to crawl over in the drysuit. Big mistake - the ice was 2-3 inches thick, but it was like rubber. I fell in straight away and had to smash my way through the ice with my arms. It was exhausting work and after 15 minutes I was barely a tenth of the way across. I retreated and skied further before finding a narrower point which looked good. I scrambled back into the suit, pulled the cord tight around my face and tugged at the zip. It fell apart in my hand.
The shock hit me like a slap in the face. The suit would still be watertight, but without the zip I wasn't sure if it would float properly (or at all). With tears of frustration freezing on my cheeks, I climbed out of the suit and skied on. In all, it took nearly four hours to cross that lead, and when I did, I ended up in the middle of the worst rubble ice I've seen for weeks.
There were two more big leads today and loads of smaller ones, all fresh. The weather deteriorated to a complete whiteout, leaving me stumbling along, bumping into ridges and falling over constantly. I skied for nearly ten hours and didn't even make five nautical miles north. Crazy.
Today's dedication is to everyone that was in 8 Platoon, Inkerman Coy, RMA Sandhurst at the same time as me. I wonder where you all are now...
Cracking up - 0420
It was a beautiful day again today, but I noticed something unusual as I set off this morning. I have a ribbon taped to a ski pole that shows the direction of the wind (useful for navigating if I can't see the sun). For weeks now, it's been streaming out to my left (wind from the east) but this morning it was pointing in the opposite direction - the wind had veered 180 degrees overnight.The wind has a major effect on the drift of the ice - I've been drifting west for much of the expedition, but today I noticed that I'm being carried slightly east and the ice isn't happy about it. Millions of tons of it have come grinding to a halt and are changing direction, and like a giant machine that can't quite take the strain, faults are appearing everywhere. There were dozens of fresh leads today, many either opening or closing as I approached them. I saw giant pressure ridges being formed, huge plates of ice being forced under or over each other and water bubbling out of cracks.
I had to zigzag wildly to make my way north, so the mileage wasn't spectacular and I'm camped just south of a large lead that I'm hoping will freeze overnight. Another crazy day!
Today is dedicated to Dr. Justin Roberts, who developed the rations that Pen & I used in 2001, and upon which I based the nutrition for this expedition. Justin, if you're reading, I have an idea you might be interested in - I'll tell all when I'm back on terra firma...
Finally, I was going to say more about the resupply - basically it'll mean I'm back to a relatively heavy sledge (boo!) but it also means I get fresh underwear, a new sleeping bag, a surprise food parcel, letters, a newspaper and a few other bits and bobs (hooray!).
Fifty fifty - 0419
The ice conditions today were half great and half terrible. Polar opposites, you could say (groan). When the ice was good, it was the stuff of dreams - flat pans with crisp, icy snow on top. According to the GPS, I was scooting over these at 2.4 knots, meaning a 24 nautical mile day is theoretically possible. The Arctic has a way of slamming the brakes on however, and today's bad ice was the worst I've seen in ages - old rubble ice mixed with deep snow (see pic).Anyway, I'm happy with my mileage and the weather was glorious - beaming sunshine and just a faint breeze to stop me overheating completely (it was a sunglasses and earband day today).
If you're following the two other expeditions still out here, you'll know that the Russian airstrip near the Pole ('Borneo') is closing early this year. It's not disastrous news for me, but it means my resupply flight will be in 5-6 day's time. I'll talk more about what this means tomorrow.
Today is dedicated to Lisa Bradbury aka Mrs Fish - Lisa designed the logo that was on my original sponsorship proposal to Serco. You never know, this could all be thanks to her!!! ;)
A big hi to all the PH gang, with a special thanks to Plotloss, who in a roundabout way recommended Marlena Shaw's California Soul - a fantastic skiing tune...
Mind travel - 0418
That's what Sir Ranulph Fiennes calls it. My teachers prefered the term daydreaming. Either way, I did a lot of it today.I was up late last night with a mammoth salopette repair job and I woke up feeling exhausted. It was very cloudy all day, verging on whiteout at times and the ice (half flat pans and half rubble) was covered in deep snow. It was like skiing through treacle at times - I was forcing my way through what I should be gliding over. All very frustrating, although yesterday's headwind had veered round and was now blowing from the east. There was far less open water, although some of the ice this morning was really smashed up. As my good friend Nicolas Mingasson said, 'it's a crazy season'.
I was replaying a few years of my life this afternoon and remembered one person that was always happy to listen to my crazy plans for the future (over a cup of tea!) - so today is dedicated to Carole Parmiter (and of course to Eleanor, Chloe & Rosie).
The 'f' word... - 0417
I think I've avoided using this word until now, and I can't believe I'm about to say it, but today was definitely fun.It all started after about two hours, when I came to a lead that I had no choice but to swim across, wearing my drysuit. Until today, swimming leads has scared me silly - it goes against every notion of self-preservation. The adrenaline was flowing as I suited up and climbed into the black water, but half way across the lead, something very strange happened. I realised I was enjoying myself. I stopped swimming for a moment and lay floating on my back with the warm sun on my face. I felt completely relaxed and completely safe, and when I started swimming again, it was with long, smooth strokes rather than the panic-driven doggy paddle I normally use. When I climbed out of the far side, I was a different man - I could deal with anything the Arctic could throw at me.
And it certainly did some throwing today. Dozens and dozens of open leads. I only swam once, but I had some crazy crossings - I skied, I jumped, I crawled over the sledge, I used a giant floating block of ice as a ferry and I made a bridge by pushing huge lumps of snow and ice into the water. The crazier the conditions became, the wider my smile grew - it was like some ridiculous assault course, yet I kept managing to find a way through (or over, across or around).
Today dedication is to Borge Ousland for developing the drysuit, to Helly Hansen for making it, and to Adam Levy for kindly supplying the one that's getting me through all this.
The photo is of my sledge, bobbing obediently across the lead after my swim.
Falling down - 0416
Not only the title of a great film, but something I was doing rather a lot of today. The ice was terrible (that wasn't the exact word I used in my daily phone call to Tony, but this is a family site after all) - tons of rubble, giant pressure ridges and a liberal sprinkling of fresh, deep snow. It was incredibly hard work, deeply depressing and my poor old sledge now answers to a different name (which again can't be repeated here)...The biggest crash came in the early afternoon - I was attempting to negotiate a really nasty pressure ridge with my skis still on, a procedure which at the best of times requires a modicum of skill and luck. Today it seemed I had neither. Roughly halfway across, I knew I was in trouble. My skis and poles were balanced precariously on huge blocks of slippery blue ice and my sledge was jammed in a gap behind me. I couldn't move either of my hands or feet without losing my balance, so I was attempting to free the sledge with what can only be described as pelvic thrusts. Exactly what happened next is a mystery, but I ended up half lying, half dangling by my feet (still clipped into the bindings), both skis parallel but pointing in opposite directions, and the sledge resting on my legs, trapping me completely. I wasn't sure whether to laugh, cry or shout out the rudest swear word I could think of, so I did all three, before reaching up to unclip my skis, falling even further and pulling myself out of the hole I'd ended up in. Fun fun fun.
Today's dedication is to Shaun & Mel Williamson - hope to see you in the summer...
A special mention in dispatches (geddit?) to Babs, both Nikkis and Sarah H. (thanks for making me laugh out loud last night).
Mind the gap - 0415
Today kicked off with a few beautiful pans (flat areas of ice) before deteriorating into large fields of rubble, deep snow and dozens of new leads (cracks in the ice - see pic). I skied for ten hours today and considering the state of the ice, I'm more than happy with the mileage. Odd that the sledge still feels as heavy as it did on day one, though.The weirdest moment came in the early afternoon. Admittedly, I had the Foo Fighters on perhaps a tad too loud and might have missed hearing any early warning signs, but it wasn't until I stepped onto the surface of a large, freshly frozen lead that I realised something was up. The far bank, perhaps 30 metres away, was moving towards me quite quickly, almost at walking pace. The surface was vibrating, cracks were appearing in places and the ice on my side was disappearing under the thicker pack ice. I wanted to get the video camera out, but there was a little too much water around for me to feel entirely safe and by the time I'd reached the far side, the show was over. Amazing.
Today is dedicated to Stef. I was cracking up laughing today at memories of the summer we spent sharing a flat. See you soon, mate.
Captain caveman - 0414
Up here I lead an incredibly simple existence, something I reflected upon this evening as I put my tent up and found a particularly nice patch of snow to dig up and melt for drinking water.As I filled up my bag with blocks of snow, I felt a tinge of sadness that it won't be long before I'm home, where water comes instantly out of a tap and it takes more than just nice snow, the direction of the wind or the colour of the sky to make me happy. You see, here I'm away from the clutches of the marketing people. I don't worry about what clothes to wear, because I only have one set. I don't cleanse, tone or moisturise, yet my skin has never been better. I don't feel left out because I don't have a widescreen tv or a DVD player.
One of the things I love about the Arctic is the way it strips away all the superficiality we surround ourselves with, all the layers of aftershave and pretence, and what you're left with is life stripped to the bare essentials. Even up here, it's amazing how little you need to live in relative comfort. What's that great line in the film Fight Club? Something about people wasting their lives working in jobs they hate just to buy things they don't even need...
What I'm realising is that it's the people that are close to me that I miss, not the things that I own. Here endeth today's rambling.
I nearly forgot - I had some decent ice for a change this morning (see pic). Happy days!
Today is dedicated to a few people I haven't heard from in years - Russell Witcher, Aaron Haynes, Oliver Restorick and my dad. It'd make my day to hear from any of you.
Polar safari - 0413
It was really warm today. According to Tony, who receives the temp. along with my position from a small satellite beacon in my sledge, it was -14 degrees C. It felt even warmer - the sun was blazing and there wasn't a breath of wind. It probably sounds daft, but I almost prefer it slightly colder.The ice still isn't as good as I'd hoped, but it's not horrendously bad either. I crossed dozens of narrow, open leads this morning and one barely frozen huge one in the afternoon. It was just before this big lead that something made me jump - a black shape raced across the ice, turned and started circling me at high speed. It took me a second to realise it was a shadow - a small bird was flying around me. It did three laps, dropped a poo that missed me by mere inches (very lucky or very unlucky?!) and flew south. I've no idea what it was - any suggestions? A little smaller than a pigeon and black with large white patches under its wings.
The second sign of life was a very fresh set of bear prints, not far from where I'm camped. I'm not too worried - they were smaller than my handprints - a young bear spending its first year alone, I reckon.
Speaking of feet, mine are in a bad way - they've been skiing for 40 days now and the bone-chilling cold of the first couple of weeks has been superceded by a permanent state of damp warmth. My right foot is showing signs of infection (don't panic, I'm speaking to an expedition specialist doctor) and I'm taking antibiotics to sort it out.
Today's dedication is to Nancy at RBH Designs - thanks for your support!
A big hi also to Mel P, George Fudge, Superflid (bank holiday traffic - ugh!), Caroline, Basil, Gwen and Dan Rix.
These things are sent to try us - 0412
I can vaguely remember a cartoon poster on my bedroom wall when I was very young - a picture of a child holding an empty cone and a dog licking at a big dollop of ice cream on the ground. That was the caption - 'these things are sent to try us'.What on earth's this got to do with today? 85 degrees, that's what. For days I've been working like mad to reach 85 degrees north, where according to fellow adventurers, polar experts and satellite images, the ice would really start to improve. And instead I'm greeted with the worst ice I've seen in ages and the mother of all leads that took nearly two hours to negotiate. Aarrgh!
Just when I was starting to feel really low, I remembered DB and a young South African guy I met last summer, Victor Vermeulen. Vic is one of the most genuinely inspirational people I've met. He's also paralysed from the neck down. My mood changed immediately - what do I really know about challenge and frustration? If you're reading this, Vic, today is dedicated to you.
A big hi also to Scot, to my elder namesake (thanks for the easter message!) and to everyone at Dane's Hill School.
Easter Sunday - 0411
Apologies for the missing update yesterday - a technical hitch somewhere along the line (a server in Sweden, would you believe?) meant I was unable to send it.Today was great (as was yesterday) with mostly good ice and fine weather. The photo was taken from my tent yesterday evening (the thing on the pole is one of the bear tripflares) - the ice doesn't get much better. Oddly, today was slightly worse, with a few areas of dense rubble and I had to push really hard to reach 85 degrees. I'm over the moon with the last two days' mileages - let's see how long I can keep it up!!
On my 2001 expedition with Pen Hadow, I woke up on Easter Sunday to find Pen had left an easter egg and a tiny plastic daffodil by my sleeping bag. It was one of the most profoundly touching gestures I'd ever received and I was gutted I had nothing to give in return (other than sawing the frozen egg in half with my penknife). So today is dedicated to Pen, Mary, Wilf and Freya. Thanks Pen.
Yesterday was dedicated to Simon Howell. You'd love it up here at the moment, Si - I hope it won't be too long before you're back on the Arctic Ocean...
Finally, to everyone reading this and particularly to the many, many people that have left messages of support, HAPPY EASTER!
That sinking feeling - 0409
I woke up to a beautiful sunny day, with only a slight headwind to complain about. After climbing over a bit of rubble, I spotted a massive pan - perfect conditions at last!It didn't last long - after 15 mins came the first lead, but the ice was just thick enough to ski over. Excellent.
A few minutes later I saw a huge stretch of water on the horizon. I skied closer and something caught my eye - a seal. I made a few silly noises and it gave me a puzzled look before slipping back below the surface.
It looked like I might be able to cross to the east and I skied along the edge to take a look. The next thing I remember is being chest deep in water - both my skis had gone through. Instinctively, I threw my arms out - there was some thicker ice to my left and I tried to haul myself out, but the backs of my skis were caught underneath the ice. I felt oddly calm as I tried to work out a solution. I'm not quite sure how, but I did.
Once I was out of the water, the calm feeling vanished. I sprinted for some snow and rolled in it, rubbing it into my wet clothing and brushing it off. I windmilled my arms like a maniac, forcing heat back into my numb fingers before skiing as fast as I could to a decent camp site. I threw the tent up using two poles and two skis, climbed in and lit the stove. Three hours later, with both stoves burning, I was warm and my clothes were nearly dry.
I think I'm still in shock and I'm amazed I got away so lightly. Physically I'm fine but mentally it shook me up in a big way, particularly after recent events. Anyhow, I'm following my girlfriend's advice and getting some rest!
Today's dedication is to Nikki at Serco - I hope I haven't ruined your Good Friday!
Bridge over troubling water - 0408
Another day, another cheesy headline. I spent two hours this morning trying to cross a huge lead - about 100 metres wide. It was half frozen, with open water at the very centre and varying thicknesses of ice leading away from its sides. Swimming would have been almost impossible and I decided to follow it east and look for a crossing. There were a couple of points where it seemed thicker and I skied out to take a look. Both times, the ice was just too thin and I had to retreat nervously over the wobbling surface.Finally I spotted a few 'islands' with thicker ice in between and started to cross. At the centre was an open channel, about two metres wide and slowly getting wider. The water was black - in places here it's three miles deep. My skis weren't long enough to span it and the thought of jumping and landing short filled me with fear. I HAD to get across. I glanced back at my sledge and for a second imagined him wagging his tail like a daft labrador. Grinning, I pushed him into the gap - a perfect fit (he floats beautifully). I crawled over on hands and knees and celebrated American style, with lots of arm pumping and 'who da man?!' before skiing off. What a day!
Today is dedicated to Jaime - hasta el verano, hombre!
On the rivet - 0407
At least I think that's the expression. I spent a few happy teenage years as a cyclist and secretly harboured ambitions of making it big as a pro - riding all the classics and big tours. I still do, deep down. Anyhow, traditional saddles used to have a rivet right at the front and when cyclists are going flat out, they tend to sit further forward. On the rivet.I've been on the rivet for a few days now and I'm noticing a pattern - I start the day in a terrible mood, usually waking up wondering where I am. The first hour is the hardest - the sledge seemed to have doubled in weight this morning - then things start to improve. The last hour or two is usually the best (endorphins perhaps?) and tends to contain the most air guitar moments if I have the music on...
Another hard day - conditions are slowly improving but things are still pretty crazy. I crossed a HUGE lead this afternoon that had only recently frozen. I doubt the photo will do it justice.
Today's dedication is to everyone at Close Brothers Private Equity - thanks for your support!
A big hello to all the Serco employees worldwide reading this and thanks for all your messages. I look forward to meeting some of you later this year.
Up periscope! - 0406
Apparently the submarine USS Honolulu is currently under the Arctic pack ice, 280 miles from the Pole, so I'm not quite as isolated as I thought...Today was another toughie and I was so exhausted this evening that I managed to let off one of my polar bear tripflares. Thankfully I emerged unscathed, mainly as my face was completely encrusted with ice (see pic). It's good to know they still work, I suppose!
The flat pans I'm dreaming of still haven't turned up and I had three hours of smashed up rubble ice this morning, followed by some of the most enormous leads (recently frozen) I've ever seen. I'm drifting slowly backwards as well, which is always tough to deal with.
Today is dedicated to Charles Box for his friendship and support, both material and moral. Cheers mate.
Thanks as always for all the messages of support - they make a huge difference!
On thin ice - 0405
The Arctic ocean was a bit too much like an ocean for my liking today. The nice flat pans I was expecting never materialised and I had areas of rubble, more pressure ridges and dozens of leads to contend with. Luckily, the huge ones were all frozen (just!) meaning I could ski carefully across (see pic) but many of the smaller ones were harder to deal with, meaning I had to zigzag east and west to find crossings.Today was the first day that I've had music on all day. Favourite tracks included: Orbital - Halcyon and on, Lemon Jelly - Ramblin' Man, Lamb - Goreki and Outkast - Hey ya!
As far as the expedition goes, I'm planning to receive a resupply of more food and fuel close to the Pole at the end of the month, before carrying on to Canada. For now, I'm concentrating on getting to the Pole as fast as I can. Time will tell how my fitness, motivation and equipment hold out - all three have taken a batering so far, but I'm still smiling...
Today's dedication is to my brother Steven - I spoke to him a few days ago and he cheered me up loads. Carry on making a difference, bro.
84 degrees - 0404
I've been out here for a month yet only today did I finally feel like I was getting into my stride. I had every sort of ice imaginable - rubble, pressure ridges of all shapes and sizes and so many leads that I lost count. It was still really windy this morning, but yesterday's big lead was no more - replaced by mountains of rubble and patches of very thin, rubbery ice that just about bore my weight.Despite the ice I skied hard, determined to see the last of 83 degrees. My sledge was obviously upset about something and caused me a lot of bother, flipping over completely twice (see pic) in the worse areas possible - fresh rubble ice with patches of water. The second time it happened I fell over as well, lost my temper and hit it with a ski pole. 'You'll get us both in trouble, you @&?!~%# idiot!', I screamed.
You'll be glad to know we're friends again - I even offered him some chocolate crumbs at the next break...
Anyhow, a big day and for once, I'm really happy with my mileage.
Today is dedicated to all the individuals that contributed financially to my 2003 expedition - most of whom I've never even met. Without your trust and generosity, I wouldn't be here now - thank you.
And DB, take it easy - I've been doing enough falling over for the both of us...
The big lead - 0403
A lead is a term for an area of open water - a crack in the pack ice. They're common up here (this is an ocean I'm skiing over, after all) and are usually either narrow enough to jump or sufficiently frozen to ski across.No such luck today. The wind was blowing hard last night, but as it was blowing me north, I was happy. Taking the tent down without it blowing away took both hands, both feet and one knee, it was snowing and the visibility was poor - close to a whiteout at times. The ice was hard work - big pressure ridges and deep drifted snow.
As the ice flattened out, I spotted an ominous dark line across the horizon that could only mean one thing - open water. Sure enough, it was a monster lead, black as ink and with waves being whipped up by the wind. At points I couldn't see the far side and where I could, I'd guess it was 100m away. Yowser.
The 'banks' were very high and I chickened out of trying to swim pretty quickly. I skied east for a while but it just got worse and I finally decided to camp early in the hope that it freezes/closes up.
I've had a look (weird how it seems less frightening now the sun's out) and it's doing both - for once, I'm quite reassured by the noises I can hear from my tent. Early start tomorrow...
Today is dedicated to DB - your message made my day. Stay in touch, and keep wiggling those toes...
Day 29 - 0402
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MUM!A pretty good day today - the ice is starting to improve (thanks Cissy!) and the wind has turned slightly, meaning my face is no longer frozen and I'm drifting ever so slightly north. Finally!
The conditions are still far from perfect, but it's a huge relief to see things are getting better. Stopped slightly early today as I need to make a few repair jobs, both to equipment and to myself!
Apart from mum, today is dedicated to the fabulous Caroline Baker, who's been a supporter through thick and thin. Thanks Caroline!
Speed demon - 0401
The ice was very odd today - the best and worst yet. The best bits were a couple of huge pans (flat areas) and a gorgeous north pointing frozen lead. The worst was wall to wall rubble (I don't know if it's clear in the pic) with blocks the size of cars forced up at crazy angles and gaping cracks you could lose a telegraph pole in. Before today, I'd never encountered ice that I simply couldn't get through - 'there's always a way' is my pack ice mantra. But today, I had to reverse out of a complete dead end. Towering walls of rubble ice and drifted snow deep enough to sink thigh deep with no skis on. Incredible.Anyhow, the good news: when the ice allowed, I really motored and managed 8 nautical miles - an expedition record. The bad news? I feel like I've been beaten up and worse still, I'm suffering from what could politely be described as nappy rash. Ah, the glamour of polar adventure...
Today is dedicated to Robert Smith at Serco. I wouldn't be here without him and as a manager and leader, he has been a pleasure and an inspiration to work with. Thanks Robert (it sounds like last night was a success as well!)
Testing times - 0331
A shorter update tonight as I need to repair the tip of one of my skis (nothing serious, don't panic!)More of the same today - a cold, cold wind from the east, some stupendously bad pack ice and that 'hit me with your rhythm stick' song stuck in my head, none of which were easy to deal with...
On a different note, despite my slightly ambiguous message yesterday, no, my mum's not getting married just yet!
Today is dedicated to the Norwegian adventurer Borge Ousland. He's skied from the Russian side twice now and his expertise is unrivaled. I called him this evening, after I'd got the tent up and his advice and support cheered me up immensely. Thanks Borge!
Nine hours - 0330
A new record today - nine hours of skiing. The mileage wasn't spectacular, thanks to a dozen or so enormous pressure ridges, but I'm happy - a shade under seven nautical miles, my boot repair held together and I've just had beef stew for supper. Mmnn.To get a rough idea of how my day went, head to your nearest gym, turn the air conditioning down to -30 or so, find one of those cross trainer machines and churn away on the highest setting for nine hours. To simulate the pressure ridges every 30-40 minutes, fill a plastic bathtub with the entire dumbell rack, head outside, drag it up the steps of the fire escape until you're on the roof, lower it down the other side, stop to break the icicle off your nose and return to the cross trainer.
In a weird way, I really enjoyed today and I can't believe I've been out here for nearly four weeks. Time to contemplate my first underwear change, I suppose...
Today's dedication: my mum & her fiance Rob - congratulations on yesterday's decision!
Today's big hello: Emma Fontenot, Moki Kokoris (great idea!), Steve in Seattle and everyone at Framingham Earl High School.
Frustration - 0329
The weather is going nuts again - it's incredibly windy, it's snowing and much of the day has been a whiteout. I decided to stay put and hope things improve - part of me says I should be out there, whatever the weather and part of me says I did the right thing. Navigation would have been a nightmare, the wind chill would have made stopping for breaks dangerously cold, the wind would have made putting the tent up pretty hard and the ice round here is risky enough in clear daylight - I found new leads yesterday hidden under fresh snow.So I'm lying here trying to stay positive, with my tent sounding like it's going to take off at any moment. I can feel the ice moving occasionally as well, which is really spooky - I've never noticed it on previous expeditions.
I completed boot repair no. 5 this morning, drilling^ through the sole with a heated needle and tying it together with cord. In a way, it's nice to have a little brain teaser like this to work on...
Today is dedicated to Maud Fontenoy, the young French rower that crossed the Atlantic solo from west to east last year. Against the odds, against the weather, against everyone's predictions and with supplies and time running out, she kept battling on. Thanks for the inspiration Maud.
A big thank you as well to Tony (who I woke up at 3am) and to my girlfriend Valeria, who has been supportive beyond belief.
I imagine you're getting bored of boot pics by now, so today's photo is an experiment that went slightly wrong. I was crossing a lead yesterday that my skis just reached across and thought it might be clever to stop halfway and take a photo from ski height. Just as I was leaning over, the lead started opening even further and I had to leg it. So, no apologies for the wonky angle.
Do the locomotion - 0328
I remember filling in forms for my Army medical a few years ago and one in particular that warned: 'candidates must be capable of severe locomotor strain over several days'. Well, my locomotors were certainly feeling the strain today.The ice was crazy - dozens of leads (cracks in the ice) and a few monster pressure ridges. Most leads were either narrow enough to jump or sufficiently frozen to ski gingerly across, but one wide, fresh one was more problematic. So I swam across, wearing my drysuit.
I still can't get used to the idea of actually climbing INTO the water - it just feels plain wrong - and the adrenaline was flowing as I clambered into the orange suit. I attached a long line to my sledge so I could tow it after me and edged nervously into the black water.
There was a thin crust of new ice on the surface that complicated things - I had to smash through it before I could swim. I resorted to a form of backstroke, breaking the ice with my arms. Progress was agonisingly slow, I was getting hot (the water feels warm with the suit on!) and the far bank seemed miles away. Finally, after switching to a modified doggy paddle, I made it to the far side and hauled myself onto the snow. Wow. I lay on my back and looked up at the sky, laughing like a maniac. I've never tried bungy jumping, or swimming with sharks but I guess the feeling of satisfaction - of getting away with it - is just the same.
Thanks to the ice, which I can hear grinding away in the distance like a badly oiled machine as I write, today's mileage was lower than I'd hoped, but I'm still heading north. Limping, actually, as the boot is getting worse. Curses.
Today is dedicated to Colin Osborne, the founder of the Orchid Cancer Appeal. I don't think I've met anyone with more energy or determination.
Longer days - 0327
It won't have escaped most of you that conditions haven't been ideal so far, and that I'm a wee bit further south than I'd like to be.I used to do a paper round when I was a school kid and Sundays were the worst - the supplements and magazines meant the bag was almost too heavy to lift. It got a little lighter with each newspaper delivered, though, and I sped up as I walked. It's essentially the same here. On day one, I could barely manage ten paces before stopping to catch my breath. Now the sledge is definitely feeling more manageable - it gets 1.5kg lighter each day from the food and fuel I use. The hours of daylight are extending and the ice is getting better. The end result? I skied for 8.5 hours today and the miles are finally ticking away.
The boot is still knackered, although it refuses to stop working completely, which is good. I tried a new technique of repairing my feet with tape, rather than the boot. So far so good.
My big worry today is that the sledge took a bit of a dunking at one point - the rear was briefly submerged as I hauled it out of an open lead. I thought I'd escaped unscathed, but my sleeping bag (packed at the very top) has a whopping clump of ice in it. It's pretty iced up anyway, which is par for the course, but this is something different. Tonight could be interesting, although it feels warm enough at the moment. Another day in the office...
Today's dedication is to Robin Cope and everyone at British Military Fitness. Round that lampost and ten burpees... Go!
The Broken Boot Blues - 0326
I woke up this morning,feelin' kinda glad.
Had I fixed my boots?
Man, I thought I had.
Boooo hooooo...
I've got those broken boot blues.
Started out just fine,
but with each mile I traveled,
my screws unscrewed,
and my gaffer tape unraveled.
Booooo hooooo...
I've got those broken boot blues.
So I skied along thinkin'
brother what can I do?
I've tried the whole repair kit
and the first aid bag too.
Man I sure wish I could fix my shoes.
I've got those broken boot blues.
It was about lunch time,
when the answer came along.
I'll forget about the boot (it works ok)
and write a silly song.
Etc.
In all seriousness, I'm in a FAR better mood today. I realised I could either sit in the tent, drifting backwards and feeling glum, or I could get out and see if I could stick two fingers up at the Arctic. So I did just that. It wasn't the big mileage day I'd planned, thanks to a complete whiteout all day, but I'm happy I did my best.
A few people commented on the boots and I want to explain a few things. They were given to me by the Belgian adventurer Alain Hubert, who helped develop them. My pair have a modified sole - the part that failed - but it's testament to their quality that they remain usable in this incredibly harsh environment. I wouldn't trade them, even in their current condition, for the boots I wore in 2001. They're based on the Millet Everest, the world's best high altitude mountaineering boot and Alain and Dixie Dansercoer used them for their epic Antarctic crossing - the longest ski/sail expedition ever. In my opinion they're the best polar boots around and it probably sounds odd, but I'd have no hesitation in recommending them, or in using them again.
Today is dedicated to Mike Kobold - a long time supporter and friend. Thanks Mike.
Also, a huge thank you for all the support from everyone at Serco - sorry if I had you worried!
Things are looking up. Tomorrow could be the big day...
Pea souper - 0325
I woke up this morning to the thickest, cloudiest, whitest whiteoutI've ever experienced. I couldn't see a thing. The wind is blowing like mad and it's snowing again. To top it all off, I've drifted south nearly three nautical miles and am currently surfing south east (mostly east, luckily) at an incredible speed. I'm certainly 'getting the full benefit of the package' (one of my favourite army catchphrases). I'm sure Pen & I never had it this bad in 2001.
I took the decision to stay put - I'd crossed some really dodgy ice yesterday and didn't want to be effectively blind in the same situation - the whole Dominick/Frederic thing has made me far less gung-ho about taking risks.
My plan is to get an early night and then put in a big, big day tomorrow. Today I've been writing my diary, reinforcing the broken boot and sewing up holes in gloves. My mum would be proud of my new found sewing skills and the boot repair mk.3 looks like it could be a winner.
Today is dedicated to John and Marie-Christine Ridgway, and to Andy, Nick, Tom, Ward, Sanel and Desmond. Into the mist...
Boot bodging - 0324
The good news? I've finally passed 83 degrees and the ice conditions are improving. The bad? Yesterday's elaborate boot repair didn't last long and I was back to square one last night. I spent an hour this morning repairing it again, this time with miles of tape - gaffer tape, medical strapping tape and spinnaker repair tape.By lunch time, much of it had unraveled, the boot was gaping open again and I hit an all time low. I skied for a while in tears - surely the expedition was over? I had hardly any tape left and the broken boot was hurting my foot.
But as always, now I've got the tent up, had some hot food and blown my nose, things don't look quite so bad. I started to hatch a plan and cannibalised the sling from my shotgun, cutting it apart and screwing it into the sole of the boot. The result looks far beefier than my gaffer tape effort and I'm optimistic about its performance. Fingers crossed...
Today's dedication: Rosie Stancer and Fiona Thornewill - Britain's pin-up polar babes.
Today's hello: Thomas & Alexander Eckl, Baby Walrus and the St. Michael's School of Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada.
Sole destroying stuff - 0323
I think it's a very English trait that when disaster strikes, you can still sum it up with a cheesy pun.My right boot felt a bit odd yesterday, but I thought nothing of it. When I came to put it on this morning, I noticed there was a lot of ice inside and poked my knife in to scrape it out. Then I spotted daylight, right where the insole should be. My boot had split in two.
I took one brief glance into the abyss of self-pity before the A-Team mode kicked in again. Armed with a red hot sail needle, wire, super glue, gaffer tape, a strip of metal hacksawed from my stove base and a couple of screws, I set to work.
The end result is functional rather than pretty, but it works. Just. This entire expedition, the sum of my ambition and the culmination of three years' hard graft now rests on the strength of a few feet of sticky tape. Crumbs.
It's not all doom and gloom - the ice conditions are improving and the weather today was glorious. And I discovered a couple of stowaways in my sledge. Someone had slipped two jelly babies into my vacuum packed breakfast. They didn't last long, sadly.
Today is dedicated to everyone at the London Speaker Bureau and to Chloe and Simon at Cunningham Management.
Hi to the 4th block science class in Livonia, NY State.
Aarrrggghh!! - 0322
This is getting ridiculous. I woke up this morning to find my tent flapping like crazy. The wind had turned during the night and had been busy blowing me backwards. It had also snowed heavily which sounds normal, but in reality it hardly ever snows here.All the ingredients for a nightmare day - a strong headwind did its best to freeze parts of my face and meant I was being blown south almost as fast as I could ski north. The ice is still terrible and the snow makes things worse (see pic) - like skiing through glue. It also made judging the condition of the ice impossible.
The result of six hours hard slog? I'm a big fat 1.5 nautical miles further north than I was this time yesterday. It's like a bad dream.
Anyhow, enough moaning. Congratulations to Arlington Science Focus School for answering yesterday's questions first. Your photo will be on its way as soon as I next see a post box...
For Lauriston School: the average temp. on my expedition so far has been around -30 degrees C. I haven't had frostbite, luckily. Being solo is nicer than it sounds - the time goes quickly as I'm always busy - navigating, putting the tent up, cooking, writing updates, sleeping. My favourite parts are listening to music, reading text messages on my satellite phone and my evening meal. The idea initially came from reading about previous expeditions. For Robert - the training lasted a year although the total build up has taken three. It hasn't been easy, but yes I've enjoyed it - especially putting on weight!
Today is dedicated to anyone else that feels that no matter how hard they try, they're still drifting backwards. There's a great bit in Kipling's 'If' about making a 'heap of all your winnings', losing the lot and starting again without 'breathing a word about your loss'. On days like today, I try and remind myself that just being here is proof that dreams can come true, and that I'm certainly getting what I came for - a challenge.
Thank you for your messages of support and a big hi to Cissy, Christy, Debi, Gwen, Nikki and Scot.
Sun dog - 0321
I saw a beautiful sun dog today - hopefully the photo shows it clearly enough. A parhelion is the technical term, although I'm not sure exactly what causes it.So here's my idea - a little competition: the first school to reply with the correct answers to 1) what causes a parhelion and 2) what do polar bears drink (because I don't know that either!) wins a prize. I'm not sure what yet, but I'll work something out...
I said I'd explain time zones, so here goes. Each degree of longitude equals four minutes of time. I'm currently at 97 degrees east, so 97 x 4 = 388 minutes, or 6 hours 28 minutes LATER than UTC. If I were at 97 degrees west, it would be 6 hours 28 minutes earlier than UTC. Clear as mud? Thought so. Rather than doing the maths, I have a little chart in my diary. Easy peezy.
Today was a little better - still lots of rubble, but a few decent flat areas as well. It was warmer (-21) which means the sledge runs better over the ice, although it still gets a lot colder at night. For those of you concerned about my relatively slow progress - it's pretty normal at this stage and my mileages will improve massively as the weather, ice conditions and sledge weight all improve.
Dedication time. The idea of dedicating days was a spur of the moment thing and I'm not keeping track, so there may be some repetition (probably deservedly so) and some omission (probably me being a dimwit). If there's one person that deserves a repeat dedication, it's the incredible Babs Powell, who worked around the clock to help pack my expedition rations. Babs, you're a star and I think of you each time I break into a new bag of lovely grub. Also worthy of a repeat mention is my stepdad Giles, who's also a star - something I think I failed to convey when I last mentioned him (like I said, I'm a dimwit sometimes).
Last but not least, a big HAPPY MOTHERS DAY to my number one supporter! :)
Crawling north - 0320
Once again, the Arctic made me fight for every inch of every mile north. I've never seen ice as bad as this - impenetrable rubble stretching as far as either horizon, topped off with plenty of fresh, sticky, drifted snow. A bombed out metropolis with a million tons of icing sugar dumped on top.Every minute of today was back breaking work - the sledge kept falling down holes, my ski skins needed repairing twice, a near whiteout made it hard to navigate and when I took my skis off for the worst bits, I sank thigh-deep in snow.
Things don't seem so bad now I'm tucked up in bed with my mp3 player on and a belly full of chicken curry (see photo!) but it was definitely one of the toughest days yet. So much work and so little (a shade under four miles) to show for it.
A few people have asked about daylight and about the time zone I'm in. The daylight increases day by day - two weeks ago there was roughly six hours of true daylight. Now it's double that and pretty soon I'll have 24-hour sunlight. As far as time goes, I'm six hours and 28 mins ahead of UTC or Greenwich mean time. I'll explain why tomorrow...
Today's dedication goes to Legend Internet (and Mark Elders in particular) who host this site and have been sorting out my technological headaches for nearly three years. Thanks!
Also, a big hello to Mungo, Carzee, Derestrictor, Joust, Flasher, Mrs Fish, Petrol Ted et al. I'm sure I'll see some of you in the summer...
Rubble trouble - 0319
Incredibly, my dodgy repair to the battery charger is still working, although I suffered a nosebleed last night which I suspect resulted from inhaling all that solder (or perhaps it was just the excitement)...Anyhow, a crazy day today - loads of rubble ice (I hope the photo is clear enough to show you what it's like). Hardly ideal skiing conditions, although the weather was superb, with bright sunlight creating a surreal, alien atmosphere. I half expected to see a dinosaur beyond the next pressure ridge. Or a space station.
On a practical note, apparently a few people have asked what I'm eating. Lots is the short answer. Just under 6,000 calories per day, which I'm sure would normally be enough to sustain a champion sumo wrestler. Up here, I'm still losing weight.
Breakfast is my own secret recipe high-calorie muesli (a bit too sweet, actually) washed down with a protein shake, a handful of vitamin pills and half a litre of energy drink.
I don't have lunch, but eat/drink every hour I'm on the move - hot energy drink and some custom made energy bars from Science in Sport (they even say 'Ben's bars' on the wrapper!)
In the evening, some Green & Black's chocolate as a bit of a treat and then the highlight of the day - one of my Norwegian freeze-dried evening meals (courtesy of Expeditionfoods.com). Cod and potato casserole is my current favourite, but I'm slightly worries the fishy aroma wafting from my tent will have the bears' mouths watering!!
My girlfriend stashed a chocolate Easter bunny im my sledge, which I'm embarrassed to admit I've scoffed already. Purely to save weight, you understand.
Today's dedication is to David Butler and all the trainers and clients at The Personal Training Centre.
A HUGE thank you as well to everyone leaving messenger on the site. Many of them are relayed back to me and it makes my day to hear about the interest and support this project is generating. Keep 'em coming!
I am SO proud - 0318
Not of my skiing, the mileage I've covered, or the fact that I've been out here two weeks, but of the repair job I've just carried out on the charger for the iPAQ I write these updates on.I use Energizer lithium batteries to power the iPAQ, my phone, camera and GPS. The charger for the iPAQ looks like the kind of thing you'd plug into a cigarette lighter and has a little red light to tell you it's working.
This evening I realised it wasn't working. No red light. No power. No spare charger. No more updates.
With nothing to lose, I opened it up with my Leatherman, thinking there might be a lose connection. Only there's a whole bloomin' circuit board in there. Yikes.
After a few minutes of poking, I found a soldered connection that had snapped. I knew I had to fix it, and after nearly two hours of bodging with a safety pin, a red hot knife blade, some super glue and a few other odds and ends, IT WORKS!!!!
The rest of the day? Dragged a sledge for a few hours, lots of ice, stupidly cold, shivering in a sleeping bag. Same old same old ;)
Today's dedication: Dorian Perry, the MD of Arbor International - sponsors of my 2003 expedition and the first financial contributor to this expedition. I wouldn't be here without his support.
Tent Moose - 0317
The Royal Marines have a great expression for someone that's unusually clumsy whwn living under canvas - a tent moose. Well, that was me yesterday. I managed to spill boiling water twice, and to knock a half empty flask of drink all over the tent floor. D'oh.Aside from that, things are great. It's still very cold (minus forties) but the wind was coming from the south this morning and the sun was shining. The ice improved throughout the day - mega rubble to start with, some new pressure ridges (see photo), a handful of recently frozen leads, a couple of open leads (narrow enough to jump) and some flatish ice to finish off. Another tough day, but it was good to cover a decent distance.
Today is dedicated to Luke and Charlotte Cunliffe - thanks for all your support!
A big hi to Brian and Sylvia, to Brian, Susan, Robbie and Stevie, and once again to everyone at Dane's Hill School.
It worked! - 0316
A big thank you to everyone hoping, praying and raindancing for better weather - the wind stopped completely in the early hours of this morning and the sun has been shining all day. Now, if you could just do the same for the ice, I'd be laughing...Imagine if you will, a giant ice rink covered in scale models of the Sydney opera house, between one and ten metres high. Now imagine blowing the whole lot up with dynamite, turning the temperature down to -41 and dragging a bath tub with two grown men in it through the remains for a few miles. I've never seen worse ice, or bigger pressure ridges.
The main thing is that I'm feeling back on top of things and I'm looking forward to battling the ice again tomorrow.
Today is dedicated to the team at Serco that brought this whole thing to life - Robert, Kevin, Alastair, Nikki, Debbie, Simon and Marc. Thank you.
P.S. I've had the YMCA song stuck in my head for the last three days (along with snippets of New Kids on the Block's 'Right Stuff'). Should I be concerned?
When the going gets tough... - 0315
...Ben gets down in the dumps. Well I was for most of the day, anyway. Overnight I'd drifted back to where I was THREE days ago and it was so cold this morning that I thought my toes might get frosbitten INSIDE my sleeping bag.The wind was still blowing, although not as hard as yesterday, so I thought I'd better get on with the job. What a day it turned out to be - headwinds, -39 (before windchill), ridiculous rubble ice, snot, sweat and tears.
Today is dedicated to everyone that wonders why on earth I'm doing this. For most of today, I could completely understand your point of view.
The good news is that after a pep talk from my girlfriend, I'm feeling up and at 'em now. I'd better get my skates on tomorrow...
Frustration - 0314
I woke up with a start, my heart pounding. What the hell was that noise? 'Shhhhlick... plumpf... shhhhhhlick... plumpf.' After a minute or two, it dawned on me - it snowed heavily last night and as the sun started to rise, the snow on the roof of my tent was sliding off. I nodded off, but was woken a few hours later by something far louder. The wind.As I took my tent down, I realised I was making a mistake. It took ages to wrestle the crazily flapping fabric into its bag and by the time I strapped my sledge harness on, I was dangerously cold. The windchill was phenomenal - I could feel the heat being stripped away from me. Even worse, it was coming from the north - despite my mask, every glance forward froze my cheeks and made my eyes water like mad. After an hour and a bit, I called it a day. The wind was blowing me south faster than I could ski north.
So I'm lying here now wondering when the weather will calm down. Most of yesterday's hard won mileage has been gobbled up by the southerly drift and the wind is still blowing hard.
Today is dedicated to all the girls at KTB for doing such a fantastic job. I owe you all a drink.
Also, hi to Sarah and Louis, to Charles and to Stef. I owe you lot a drink as well...
One day at a time - 0313
Today is day nine on the ice. The hardest decision I've had to make so far happened a few days ago. I was skiing over a huge area of very new ice - miles and miles of it. Because of the combined weight of the two sledges, I was forced to pull one and then head back to collect the other - for every mile north, I was skiing three. Sooner or later I was going to be in trouble - the big sledge had the drysuit, the phone, my tent, etc. To be parted from this would be disastrous, yet every 30 minutes I was abandoning it on some very dodgy ice.I finally took the decision to continue with just the big sledge. I was forced to jettison some of my food and fuel as well, but hopefully I can increase my mileages now I just have the one sledge to contend with. We'll see.
Every inch north is a battle at the moment. Another whiteout today - I didn't see the sun once and the wind changed direction during the day, making navigation quite challenging. My camera conked out during the day, although a quick blast over the stove brought it back to life. You'll have to make do with a picture of me waving like a wally rather than anything more scenic, I'm afraid.
Yesterday's big lead had JUST frozen over and I inched over it first thing this morning with my heart in my mouth. Luckily I haven't seen any more water today, although I crossed some bear tracks (the third set of the expedition) this afternoon. I don't think they were brand new, but it's always slightly spooky seeing them...
To end on a lighter note, you might be amused to note two things:
1) Because of the whiteout, I couldn't see exactly where I was pitching my tent. It turned out to be a bit of a slope, and I'm lying here at a crazy angle with my feet up in the air.
2) In a desperate bid to save weight, I threw away the stylus for my iPAQ. I now write these updates using a matchstick. What a plonker.
Today's dedication is to my stepdad Giles, and to the teacher that wrote 'Ben lacks sufficient impetus to achieve anything worthwhile' in one of my school reports.
There may be rubble ahead... - 0312
I was psyched up for a big-mileage day today, but the Arctic had other ideas. Really nasty rubble ice this morning and a nice big open lead (area of open water) this afternoon.It was about 100m wide, ran to either horizon and was just starting to freeze. I tested the ice with a ski pole. Click... click... splosh. Too thin to ski over. I skied east for a bit, then decided to use my drysuit - the ice conditions on the far side looked perfect. I clambered into the orange suit and headed off on all fours. The far bank seemed a million miles away and the surface was like a badly inflated air bed - I was sinking in all over the place. A few metres out, my knee went through, followed in slow motion by the rest of me. It sounds scary, but the water is warmer than the air, and the suit keeps me stone dry. It was like swimming in creme brulee - no way was I going to get the sledge across as well. So I decided to call it a day, wait for it to freeze properly tonight and make an early start tomorrow.
Today is dedicated to Martin Hartley, expedition photographer extraordinaire, and to Damien du Toit, designer of this website. Both have produced incredible results within ridiculous timeframes and both have been great fun to work with.
I'd also like to say hi to Peggy, and to everyone else out there fighting their own battles.
Finally, a big hello to everyone at Dane's Hill school. Hopefully I'll have the chance to speak to you all again as soon as I'm home.
Whiteout - 0311
No easy miles today. Things started out looking good, but within an hour the headwind had started (frozen face and drifting backwards) and the cloud had descended. I could hardly see a thing. Fun fun fun.Swearing into my iced up face mask, I managed to grind out three nautical miles. It felt like more than that but today, as is often the case in the Arctic, I was going up the down escalator...
Today's dedication is to my polar mentors - Pen Hadow and Borge Ousland and to Tom & Tina at ExplorersWeb for developing the technology that means I can share this adventure with the world (or just bore you lot with my inane ramblings...)
Fingers crossed for clear skies and flat ice tomorrow. On on!
Oh what a night! - 0310
I'm writing this at the end of day two stuck in the tent. The bad weather seems to have blown over and I'm revving up for a good day on the ice tomorrow...Last night was unreal - the kind of weather I'd expect in Antarctica rather than up here - howling, battering, tent pole-flexing winds and blown snow part-burying the tent. The good part is that the storm blew me TEN nautical miles north in 24 hours. It was hard to tell with the tent flapping around, but at times I'd swear I could feel the ice moving. I didn't sleep much, but thanks to my trusty Hilleberg tent, I'm still here. Amazing.
Many of your messages are being passed on to me via satphone - keep 'em coming! As far as the marriage proposals go - I'm very flattered, but I suspect that if you caught a whiff of my sleeping bag (I haven't washed or changed my underwear in over a week and don't intend doing so for at least another month) you might change your mind...
A BIG thank you to Kim Komando (and son!) for your support - it means a great deal. Also - a big HI to any Scouts reading this - I still have my old shirt, is there a polar badge I can get?!!
Carlos - great to hear from you - have fun in India!
To the person that asked if I'm reading a book - yes, 'Life of Pi' by Yann Martel. I also have 'Courage from Piglet' (extracts from Winnie the Pooh) for when I'm feeling less intellectual (thanks Caroline!)
Today is dedicated to my expedition manager Tony Haile, for all the hard work, sleepless nights and grammatical criticism he's put into this project. And what a dashing young blade he is too (in case there are any single girls reading this)...
Chicken curry for supper. Yum!
It's grim up north... - 0309
Telltale signs you've chosen the wrong holiday destination no. 12: you start using your freshly filled pee bottle as a hand warmer before tipping it away.The weather in the high Arctic has taken several turns for the worse, and high winds combined with near-zero visibility have forced me to stay put for the day (in a tent that is trying to take off).
All is not lost, however, as the winds have really got the pack ice drifting fast - an incredible 0.8 knots is my current GPS-verified 'in the sleeping bag' speed record. I'd still rather be skiing, though. In the tent, everything that's warm is soaking wet, everything that's cold is frozen solid and each gust of wind showers me with ice from the inside of the fabric.
Today is dedicated to Sir Ranulph Fiennes, who is Mr. Polar to so many proud Brits. Ran's wife Ginny passed away the day that I left the UK and I never had the chance to offer my condolences. I first started hatching polar plans after reading his book 'Mind over matter' and was amazed when he took time to answer a question I sent him via his publishers with a two-page, handwritten letter. The world needs more people like Ran.
My thoughts today are also with Frederic Chamar-Boudet and Dominique Arduin, who both started expeditions at the same time as me, but from land rather than from the safer ice further north. After falling through thin ice, Fred has badly frostbitten hands and feet and is waiting for an evacuation flight. As far as I know, communications with Dominique have been lost. Sometimes the Arctic is the most beautiful place on earth. Others, it's the scariest. I hope more than anything that Fred and Dominique make it home safely.
To end on a cheerful note, apparently a few people have asked what music I listen to up here. A bit of everything is the answer - I have three 512mb mp3 players, with music recorded alphabetically. Yesterday I had A to E on random shuffle, giving bizarre combinations like Coldplay, Aha, DJ Hype, Bob Marley, ACDC and Busta Rhymes. Anything with a good beat that makes me smile, really...
Demolition man - 0308
I keep breaking things - my ski skins are coming loose, I've torn part of my left boot off, broken my sleeping bag zip and bent a tent peg. And I'm only on day bloomin' four...A tough day today (can you spot a recurring theme here?) and a hard won 3.4 nautical miles in the bag. The ice was worse today - loads of rubble and a fast opening lead (crack in the ice) at the end of the day. It was too wide to jump and too difficult to ski around, so I decided to do something really bonkers. Swim.
I have a specially designed drysuit for this very occasion, but I'd only tried it in Putney swimming pool and in the Serpentine for a photo shoot. Both times, my feet could touch the bottom; here the ocean is two miles deep and black as ink. Gulp. I suited up and edged in, shaking with fear... IT WORKS!! I bobbed across like a rubber duck and clambered out grinning like a loon. Not many people have done that, I thought to myself.
Today is dedicated to the St. Rita school for the deaf in Cincinnati, to Kim Komando for the overwhelming support, to Gerry Horn for encouraging me to push my limits (on a bike rather than on skis!), to my brother Steven, and to Alain Hubert for giving me his ski boots.
It made my day hearing about the messages on the website - thanks! Keep 'em coming and I'll keep skiing, how's that for a deal?
Lastly, apologies for the photo (of my stove roaring away) - I took loads as I swam the lead, only to find I'd left the memory card out of the camera. D'oh!
Perspective - 0307
A really tough, soul-searching day, for a number of reasons. The ice conditions are ok, with a mixture of recently frozen leads, 'rubble' ice and a few big pressure ridges. The weather's pretty good too, although it feels colder today. The physical strain is immense, but it's the mental part that's hardest to deal with - the self-doubt, the monotony, the loneliness and the fear of failure.I silenced some of the demons today by listening to my mp3 player. The difference it makes is amazing, and up here, no one can see you playing air guitar with a ski pole...
Today is dedicated to my mum - her independence and determination have been a bigger source of inspiration than she'd ever imagine.
I realised today that as Tony is still traveling back to the UK, my daily distances won't have been added to the site yet. As I'm skiing over the sea, I use nautical miles to measure distance. I'm currently at N82'02.2 which means I've covered 13 miles since I was dropped off. It feels more like 300...
Wacky races - 0306
I shared my drop off flight yesterday with Wave Vidmar, Bettina Aller from Denmark and her boyfriend Jean-Gabriel. Bettina and J-G set off first, with light sledges (they are being resupplied) and the four of us have been within view of each other ever since.After stopping early yesterday, I passed Wave's camp site this morning and shouted 'morning!' as I trundled past. Very surreal. I guess it will take a couple of days for us to lose each other.
I spent most of today skiing over a MASSIVE area of very new, very thin ice. Great conditions for getting some speed up, but pretty scary on this scale - impossible to camp on and prone to breaking up. I stuck the tent up as soon as it ended.
Today is dedicated to Chris Hyman, the CEO of Serco. I think it was Henry Ford that described enthusiasm as 'the spark in the eye, the spring in the step, the grip of the hand'. You'll never see a bigger spark than Chris's.
Alone and shreezing - 0305
According to my mum (hi mum!) I used to pronounce freezing as 'shreezing' when I was a bit younger. Well, it's bruddy shreezing here in my tent right now!Our fears were confirmed this morning, with over 50km of open water off the cape. Incredible. I was eventually dropped at 81'49 - not what I'd hoped for, but at least I'm on decent ice now.
With over 180kg in tow, I move at a snail's pace and I've already invented some new swear words... it's indescribably hard work. At the moment, the thought of just another week of this seems ridiculous...
Of course, none of this would be happening without my sponsor, Serco, but it took me three hard years to find them, so today is dedicated to my number one supporter - my girlfriend Valeria. I'm missing her like crazy already.
Let's go - 0304
It's supposed to be getting warmer now, yet in Khatanga this morning it was a bone-chilling -47 degrees - a good omen.The helicopter flight we thought would never happen er, happened and I'm biting my nails waiting for my final drop off flight tomorrow morning. I'm hoping against hope that there will be solid ice all the way to the coastline. We'll see... I'll let you know how it went this time tomorrow.
For now, I'm going to enjoy my last night with my girlfriend for three months. In a bunk bed. Great.