"OUR beards were long and our hair matted. We were unwashed ... We smelled. Three more unpleasant looking ruffians could hardly have been imagined.
"Down we hurried, and when quite close to the station we met two small boys of or 12 years of age... They gave one look... and ran from us as fast as their legs could carry them."
In fact, as Sir Ernest Shackleton discovered later, the two "boys" were little Norwegian girls. Later this week, weather permitting, four unkempt hairy characters - with Irish accents aim to avoid scaring the living daylights of any youngsters frequenting the former South Georgian whaling station of Stromness. The four - Paddy Barry, Mike Barry, Frank Nugent and Jamie Young - set out yesterday on the hazardous Shackleton snow and ice traverse.
A wilderness of crevasses, glaciers and snowfields, the 30 mile traverse was originally completed by three of the British Antarctic Expedition rescue crew in 1916 in just 36 hours. The trio - Shackleton, C apt Frank Worsley and Tom Crean of Annascaul in Kerry - had little proper gear. With 85 m.p.h. winds a daily occurrence, the wind chill factor can drop daytime temperatures to well below freezing.
For crampons, they improvised with brass screws from the lifeboat in which they had just completed an 800 mile sea journey. Three days' provisions were packed into three socks, along with a Primus, small cooker, carpenter's adze for use as an ice axe and an alpine climbing rope. The trio also took the log of Shackleton's ship, Endurance, which had been crushed in pack ice.
Since dropping anchor on South Georgia 10 days ago, this Irish expedition has been examining parts of the route, with its two snowfields, four glaciers and three mountain ranges. On Saturday the rescue yacht, Pelagic, sailed round into the western King Haakon Bay, and placed a plaque there to the crew on behalf of the Irish people.
The Admiralty chart still bears the name given by Shackleton to one of the bay's sheltered coves, Peggoty Bluff, after the David Copperfield fisherman for whom "home" was a boat.
"Fattening up" after three capsizes and a dramatic rescue late last month, the seven Irish have fought off cabin fever with venison and plum pudding in the past week. The venison came from one of the British military outpost's 2,000 deer, shot by the Pelagic master, Skip Novak.
"We did not witness the cruel deed," Mike Barry, Kerry climber, restaurateur and father of two young children, emphasised, while admitting that this did not dent his appetite. The pudding became a substitute birthday cake when Mayo sailor, Jarlath Cunnane, was 21 again a few days ago.
Weatherfaxes transmitted from a Boston meteorologist - Bob Rice of Weather Windows, now nicknamed the expedition's "double glazer" - have dictated the timing of this traverse. Unlike the original trio, these four sailors/climbers from Dublin, Galway and Kerry do not have to think of 22 marooned survivors living off seal blubber back on Elephant Island. In deference to the Antarctic Treaty, their breakfast menu has not even included albatross eggs. The exhausted 1916 crew were forced to barbecue - chubby albatross chicks.
