Shackleton Read online

  Ranulph Fiennes

  * * *

  SHACKLETON

  A Biography

  Contents

  Picture Credits

  Introduction

  Part One Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Part Two Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Part Three Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Part Four Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Part Five Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Acknowledgements

  Bibliography

  Index

  About the Author

  Ranulph Fiennes is the only man alive ever to have travelled around the Earth’s circumpolar surface (the late Charles Burton made the incredible journey alongside him). His record-breaking expeditions include travel by riverboat, hovercraft, man-haul sledge, skidoo, Land Rover and skis. He is also the bestselling author of titles such as Mad Dogs and Englishmen, Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know, and the biography Captain Scott. Fiennes is one of only a handful of people who has truly followed in Shackleton’s footsteps. In Shackleton he draws on his own experience to bring unparalleled insight and understanding to bear on Shackleton’s remarkable life and enduring legacy.

  This book is dedicated to the sponsors and team members of the expeditions of Ernest Shackleton as well as those of my own.

  Picture Credits

  Courtesy of Ran Fiennes, p.4: 12b; p.7: 21b; p.8: 23b; p.10: 25b, 26; p.11: 27; p.13: 33b; p.15: 39

  © C. R. Ford/Royal Geographical Society via Getty Images, p.2: 5

  © Christies/Bridgeman Images, p.2: 7

  © Ernest Shackleton/Royal Geographical Society via Getty Images, p.4: 12c; p.5: 13; p.6: 16

  © Frank Hurley/Royal Geographical Society via Getty Images, p.4: 12a; p.7: 20, 21a; p.8: 22, 23a; p.9: 24a, b, d; p.10: 25a; p.11: 28, 29; p.12: 30, 31a & b; p.14: 35

  © Illustrated London News, p.5: 15

  © John Thomson/Royal Geographical Society via Getty Images, p.3: 8

  © Mrs W. Parke/Royal Geographical Society via Getty Images, p.14: 34

  © Royal Geographical Society via Getty Images, p.3: 11; p.4: 12d; p.5: 14; p.9: 24c; p.13: 32; p.16: 41

  © Scott Polar Research Institute, University of Cambridge, p.6: 18

  Unknown, p.1: 1–4; p.2: 6; p.3: 9, 10; p.6: 17–19; p.13: 33a, p.14: 36, 37; p.15: 38, 40

  Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and to obtain their permission for the use of copyright material. The publisher apologizes for any errors or omissions and would be grateful to be notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future editions of this book.

  Introduction

  During the searing-hot summer of 1964, I was packed off to London to purchase canoes on behalf of the Royal Scots Grey’s Canoe Club. The so-called ‘swinging sixties’ were well underway, so I needed no second invitation to escape my barracks and visit a city bustling with life and excitement.

  Having hailed a black cab from Waterloo Station, as we passed the shimmering Thames I noticed quite a commotion taking place on board a ship. Arching my neck to get a better look, the black-cab driver shouted over his shoulder, ‘Them’s all Shackleton men … famous explorers and all that.’

  Shackleton … The mere mention of his name conjured up a buzz within me. I knew the stories well, having been enthralled by them as a child. An explorer and conqueror of unknown lands, Shackleton was also the man who had embarked on one of the most dramatic survival and rescue missions of all time. While his name was synonymous with the Antarctic, it was also indelibly linked with virtues such as courage and leadership. Once a mere mortal, Shackleton was now an icon, whose endeavours were forever etched into the granite of British history.

  Forty-two years after his death, a celebration of his life was now being held on the Thames, the scene of departure for so many of his expeditions, where he had set off in front of thousands of cheering admirers. Time, it seemed, had not dulled the Shackleton legend. I was later to learn that on the ship that night were fellow explorers, journalists and admirers, as well as the two doctors who were with him when he died, Alexander Macklin and James McIlroy. It seemed everyone still wanted to somehow touch the magic, which despite Shackleton’s many failings, and failures, had made him the most colourful of all the famous Victorian polar tyros.

  Within seconds of setting my eyes on this scene we had passed the ship and I had to return my mind to the less exciting job at hand: buying canoes. But in its own way this seemingly inconsequential moment was already laying a path for me to follow in years to come.

  Having left the armed forces in the early seventies, and in need of a job, I embarked on some expeditions along various remote rivers and glaciers in Norway and Canada. My appetite whetted, and my ambition and confidence gathering, I then set my mind to conquering some of the great polar challenges which had eluded the likes of Scott, Shackleton and even the famed Norwegian Roald Amundsen.

  The first of these was the Trans Globe Expedition. After seven years of excruciating fundraising and preparations, my team and I set off in 1979, with the aim of becoming the first to travel over the entire surface of the Earth, via both poles, without flying one yard of the way. This, of course, not only involved reaching the South Pole but travelling across Antarctica itself, as had once been Shackleton’s dream. In doing so, much like the famous Victorian explorers, I was able to set sight on lands that had never before been seen, let alone crossed. Like Shackleton and his contemporaries, we also did this before the age of polar-orbiting satellites, so, with no GPS, satnav or satphone, we had to navigate with sextants, theodolites and hand compasses.

  In 1993, I went one step further, when along with my expedition colleague, Mike Stroud, we became the first to cross the Antarctic continent unassisted, without the aid of food drops, transport or machinery. For ninety-two days, we each hauled a load of 485 lbs, over snow, ice, treacherous crevasses and mountains. All the while, we fought starvation, fatigue, frostbite and blindness, as well as the constant danger of falling into the crevasses. In 1996, with most of our polar goals now accomplished, I attempted to become the first man to cross the Antarctic solo and unassisted. Alas, an attack of kidney stones stopped me short.

  Nevertheless, these expeditions have provided me with a unique perspective into Shackleton the man, as well as his adventures. As the Shackleton legend has grown over the decades, a litany of books and films about him has flooded the market. Debates have subsequently raged about his preparations and decision-making, not all of them flattering. Some of these books have certainly been entertaining, and educational, but others I have found myself vehemently disagreeing with, as some have played many tunes, invented many twists and told many lies.

  It is for that reason that I decided to write this book. Of course, I needed no second invitation to travel alongside Shackleton and live vicariously through his adventures. But I certainly don’t want to simply retread familiar tales. My aim is to offer my own pe
rspective, for what it’s worth, to hopefully enlighten and enrich the legend. Indeed, to write about Hell, it certainly helps if you have been there, and no previous Shackleton biographer has man-hauled a heavy sledge load through the great crevasse fields of the Beardmore Glacier, explored undiscovered icefields or walked a thousand miles on poisoned feet, hundreds of miles away from civilization.

  I hope you will enjoy Shackleton’s still quite incredible story, for even now, almost a century after his death, his great achievements continue to astound and amaze.

  PART ONE

  ‘And I smelt the Galley’s odour

  Heard curses of sailor men’

  1

  The giggling, cries and gasps of awe coming from the young Ernest Shackleton’s bedroom were signs that, once again, he had his sisters in the palm of his hand. Gathering around their brother, the Shackleton sisters, of whom there would eventually be eight, were totally immersed in his grip. Standing tall, looking at his sisters one by one, the young boy, with fair hair and angelic eyes, set forth tales from his vivid imagination. He told them that just weeks before he had gone to London with one of his friends and they had encountered a raging inferno which threatened to engulf the city. Together, they had somehow managed to save the day and, as a reward, the Monument, near London Bridge, had been erected in their honour.

  Despite such an outlandish tale, the Shackleton sisters believed it to be true. The story was told with such conviction and detail, that they went along with every word. If they should raise a question about one of his tall tales, Shackleton would always counter with a convincing answer. And even if they still didn’t believe a word of it, it was all such good fun that they were happy to be immersed in his world.

  This Monument story indicates that from a young age Shackleton dreamed of performing a great deed, becoming a hero in the process, feted far and wide. He would spend the rest of his life trying to achieve exactly this.

  It also highlights Shackleton’s rare gift of telling a story and making people believe in it, and him. This was to prove an invaluable trait in years to come. It would allow him to earn people’s trust, to fund his expeditions, to persuade others to do as he wished when he asked for the seemingly impossible, and even to make a living. For now, it was just the Shackleton sisters who believed his stories, and tended to his every need, but in the future this gift would see him have the world at his fingertips.

  In his early years, despite his many dreams, it seemed it was only his family who had high hopes for him. Born in Ireland in 1874, his mother, Henrietta, was so taken by her ever-smiling boy, who seemed to always have a twinkle in his blue eyes, that she feared he was too good to live. With his sisters constantly running around after him, seemingly worshipping his every move, the young Shackleton certainly ruled the roost. This was a trait that endured his whole life, as his sister Kathleen later recalled: ‘“Come all my wives,” he would shout when he entered the house after a voyage. He would lie down and call out: “You must entertain me. Zuleika, you may fan me. Fatima, tickle my toes. Come, oh favoured one and scratch my back.” Of course we all loved it.’

  In spite of this outpouring of love, the fortunes of the Shackleton family were on shaky ground. Since 1872, his father, Henry Shackleton, had worked as a farmer in Kilkea, County Kildare, just 30 miles from Dublin. However, by 1880 things were beginning to look bleak. The Americans, with a huge surplus of wheat from their prairies, had built a spiderweb of new roads to transport their grain to ports, where it could be exported at a minimal cost. Faced with such competition, agricultural depression soon followed in Europe. Henry saw that the writing was on the wall. Finally selling his farm in 1880, he moved his brood to Dublin, where he took up medicine at Trinity College Dublin.

  Yet with Irish nationalism boiling over, and trouble brewing, as soon as Henry had completed his studies, he relocated the family to England in 1884, where he set up a practice in Croydon. After six months, they left Croydon and moved to Sydenham where Henry built up his business. Shackleton was now aged ten and quite used to being the centre of attention. That would quickly change. Upon attending Fir Lodge Preparatory School in Dulwich, he found himself outcast, teased for his Irish roots and slight brogue. Nicknamed ‘Mick’, Shackleton usually responded to such taunts with his fists. One classmate recalled, ‘If there was a scrap he was usually in it.’

  Although Shackleton eventually lost his accent and began to speak in a more southern tone, he would forever have to put up with the nickname Mick. However, he soon happily adopted it as his own, in later years even signing letters Mickey, giving the bullies little ammunition with which to taunt him. As we shall soon see, Shackleton’s ability to bob and weave through the pitfalls of life was one of his many talents.

  At thirteen years of age, Shackleton attended the public school, Dulwich College, just a short walk from his home. Once more, he initially found himself the outcast, liable to join in with any scrap, now earning the nickname ‘the Fighting Shackleton’. It seems he disliked team games, was no sports enthusiast and was lazy in class. School reports included the comments ‘wants waking up’, ‘is rather listless’, ‘often sinks into idleness’ and ‘must remember the importance of accuracy’.

  The only thing that truly interested Shackleton was literature. At home, his father encouraged his children to read poetry, with Shackleton becoming an admirer of Tennyson and able to quote verse after verse. He also loved reading stories, particularly tales of derring-do set in the far-flung realms of the British empire. A favourite was Boy’s Own magazine, which he bought every Saturday for a penny. He also devoured books by Rider Haggard and Jules Verne, especially the adventures of Captain Nemo in Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea.

  While Shackleton readily consumed fictional tales of heroic adventures, neither did he have to look too far for the real thing. At the end of the eighteenth century the British empire was the largest in history, covering a fifth of the Earth’s landmass, with one in four people on Earth – over 400 million – classed as British subjects. In 1887, when Shackleton was thirteen, Britain’s frenetic celebrations of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee saw patriotism and pride in the empire at their zenith. Any explorer who could bravely defy the odds and conquer new lands for Queen and country was to be exalted far and wide.

  The likes of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, who made his name exploring remote and hazardous regions, made front-page news, as did the Indiana Jones-like Colonel Percy Fawcett, who had earned fame due to his search for a fabled lost city deep in the Brazilian jungle, where he had subsequently disappeared. A key factor that ensured such explorers became the most famous stars of their time was the passing of the Forster Education Act in 1870. This had made education compulsory for children aged between five and twelve, and enabled, for the first time, many of the working class to read. With more people now reading than ever before, they delighted in stories focusing on the brave and daring deeds of the empire’s explorers and conquerors.

  As Shackleton read about these explorers, he must have noticed how adored they were by the British public and establishment alike. For a young boy struggling to fit in at school this seemed the answer to his prayers.

  Having honed his gift for storytelling with his sisters, he now proceeded to tell fantastical stories to his classmates, whether his own, or read directly from the pages of Boy’s Own. Such was his storytelling knack, he soon earned a gang of followers who were happy to play truant in the local woods so that Shackleton could regale them with his tales.

  When Shackleton told his gang a particularly thrilling story set at sea, such was the fervour he created that the boys immediately set off for London, where they prowled the docks, hoping to get jobs as cabin boys. To their frustration, and humiliation, they were instead sent packing.

  Yet this trip to the docks lit a spark in Shackleton. Upon seeing the boats, all setting off for exotic locations, he realized that a life at sea held the key to his dreams of adventure. Most of his friends only really
day-dreamed of such things, but he truly meant it. One of his many sisters later commented, ‘He had no particular hobbies as a boy, but anything to do with the sea was his special attraction.’

  Another event around this time might also have inspired him to expand his horizons. Soon after the Shackleton family’s move to Sydenham his mother became sick, and spent the following forty years more or less confined to her bedroom. Seeing his beloved mother trapped in such a manner, through no fault of her own, perhaps made Shackleton realize that if he wanted to see the world, there wasn’t a second to lose. Perhaps he might one day meet his mother’s fate, and the world which now seemed so exciting and endless would forever be confined to the four walls of a bedroom.

  Shackleton had also learned from his father’s example that doing what might seem sensible did not always guarantee a happy life. His upbringing may have been relatively comfortable, but Henry Shackleton certainly sailed close to the wind a few times during his career as a farmer and then as a doctor. Shackleton may well have thought, why submit to a ‘sensible’ profession if it was just as precarious as an exciting one?

  So, when it came time to leave school, Shackleton announced he was ready to explore the world on the ocean waves. Henry Shackleton was not amused. The family could not afford the Royal Navy, and he had hoped his son would follow in his footsteps and be a doctor, but he also knew how determined the stubborn Ernest could be. Grudgingly, he gave in, but at the same time, he had a plan of his own. He knew that if his son’s ocean-going apprenticeship was sufficiently unpleasant, he would willingly switch to medicine on his return. Henry Shackleton therefore looked to sign his son on to one of the most testing apprenticeships the sea had to offer.