Methodical Journey

The South Pole is not what it used to be. After 13 months of lavishly air-supplied U.S. occupancy, it has been described as "looking like a Chinese laundry after a hurricane," with assorted litter peppering the snow. But getting around the Antarctic by land is still quite a trick. Last week New Zealand's Sir Edmund Hillary, conqueror of Mt. Everest, arrived at the South Pole after a 1,200-mile journey by tractor from the British base at Scott Station on the Ross Sea (see map). He made it with only one drum of gasoline left, enough for 20 miles of travel.

Sir Edmund crossed new and difficult terrain, but his purpose was not primarily exploration. It was to establish supply depots to be used by the Commonwealth transAntarctic expedition led by Britain's Dr. Vivian Fuchs, which is working its way across the whole ice-covered continent from the Weddell Sea, making scientific observations every 30 miles.

Depot 700. Tall (6 ft. 3 in.), methodical Sir Edmund trained for his trip as he trained for Mt. Everest. He and his men started with the snowfields of the New Zealand Alps, then moved to Antarctica, where for nearly a year they tested themselves and their tractors in the worst possible weather. Last Oct. 14 he set out from the Ross Sea base, led a supply train with four tractors up the Skelton Glacier to the ice-covered tableland on the far side of Antarctica's main mountain range. When he had established Depot 700 (700 miles from the coast), his job was done, but only about 500 miles separated him from the U.S.-occupied Pole.

On Dec. 26, with three tractors, two sledges, a ramshackle caboose, two mechanics, a radio man and a movie photographer, he started south, steering by the never-setting sun. The tractors--ordinary Fergusons hardly modified from the model used on thousands of farms--performed magnificently. The only serious trouble was with a generator, but forethoughtful Sir Edmund had a spare along. The expedition had a little trouble with crevasses, but the tractors proved to have unexpected crevasse-detecting talents. Most of their weight is carried on the rear wheels, so when the front wheels sank into the snow over a crevasse, the driver had a good chance of backing out.

Gasping Tractors. One hundred miles from the Pole, the going got worse. The altitude, 11,000 ft., made the faithful tractors gasp for breath, and the snow got so soft that they often sank deeply into it and had to be manhandled out. Once the unemotional Hillary radioed: "I thought at one time that this might be the end of the line for the tractor train." But the tractors made it, and Hillary would have been all right, of course, if they had not. He was carrying emergency gear and supplies for foot travel to the U.S. base.

The weather got worse, so the last 70 miles was made in a 24-hour dash. At last, with most of the gasoline gone, Sir Edmund spied the U.S. buildings on the white plateau. This was no time, he knew, for precipitate action. He remembered his expedition's official correspondent at Scott Station, and also the fact that reporters of the London Daily Mail (see PRESS) and U.S. wire services were waiting for him at the Pole. So the New Zealanders quietly made camp. Four of them, including Sir Edmund, calmly went to sleep. The inhabitants of the base were asleep too. Not until the next morning, after his radio man had sent the news of the expedition to the proper press contact, did the methodical Sir Edmund chug the last two miles to the base and announce himself to the Americans.

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