Pushkin

In the first two episodes of our three-part series on the Race for the Pole, we heard about

how the British Navy captain Robert Falcon Scott, race the Norwegian adventurer, rolled

at Amundsen to the South Pole, and why Scott had lost that race. But there's one mysterious

feature of that race that we've barely discussed, and one which raises a much broader question.

What's it like to learn a vital lesson and then to lose your grip on that lesson? Why

does hard-won knowledge sometimes melt away in front of us? And so, I present a third

perspective on the race to the Pole. This one, if you'll forgive the phrase, is served

with a twist of line. February 1912 and bitterly cold. The Antarctic

summer was beginning its turn to winter. At Ross Island, just off the Antarctic coast,

the 65 men of Scott's British expedition had established a base for exploring the continent

and conducting scientific experiments, and of course, for a thrust to reach the South

Pole itself. It was from this base that Captain Scott's polar party had begun that epic

journey three months earlier at the beginning of the southern summer. Now, the men at the

base were eagerly awaiting his return. On the 19th of February, one of Scott's team

staggered into the base camp, exhausted, snow blind and dehydrated. The solitary man,

Petty Officer Tom Kreme, reported that Captain Scott had sent the three of them back six

weeks ago, before his final push to the Pole. The three had almost made it back to the base,

and Tom Kreme had marched the last 30 miles alone to fetch help. Back out on the ice were

his two companions. One of them, Lieutenant Teddy Evans, was desperately ill. Grimmer and

Grimmer diary entries from one of the trio tell the story. Mr Evans is turning black and

blue and several other colours as well. Mr Evans is gradually worse. It's no use closing

...