Next month Nigel Benson travels to England to take part in centennial commemorations of the start of the ill-fated Scott expedition to the South Pole. Here he talks to Oamaru-born helicopter pilot Jim Wilson about conditions on a continent that continues to be the preserve of the adventurous.
Few men know the Antarctic like Jim Wilson. The 68-year-old Oamaru-born Helicopters NZ chief pilot first visited the frozen continent aboard the Schepelsturm in 1979, with the inaugural German Antarctica Northern Victoria Land Expedition.
"Prior to this I had flown many years in the Southern Alps in mountain and snow operations," he recalls.
"I spent five years on the West Coast of the South Island, from 1970 to 1975, in the deer-meat days, flying all over the Southern Alps on both sides, before I joined Helicopters NZ in January, 1976."
He well remembers his maiden voyage to the white continent.
"My first reaction on the trip was how rough the sea voyage was on the way down. The ship was rolling 40deg and there were very big seas. Once we got closer to the sea ice, at around 66deg south, sailing conditions improved.
"However, there was now the continual bumping and banging of the ship working through heavy sea ice. It was hard to sleep in continuous daylight and living on the ship was very noisy."
HNZ's task was to ferry equipment and personnel between the Schepelsturm and a base 150km inland.
"The helicopters were two Hughes 500D models, operating from both the ship and remote area camps in Victoria Land," Mr Wilson says.
"New Zealander Gary Ball, who died in the Himalayas as a climbing guide, was one of our field guides. I was great mates with Gary until his death and always kept in touch.
"I've been very lucky to have had many different experiences down there on expeditions flying with German, New Zealand, American, Norwegian, Italian, Australian and Chinese programmes," Mr Wilson says.
"I've done about 18 trips to the Antarctic."
Mr Wilson was born in Oamaru and grew up in Weston with his grandparents.
He joined the air force in 1959 - the same year the Antarctica Treaty was signed - as an aircraft engine fitter. He left the air force in 1967 to join Alexander Helicopters in Wanganui.
"As a kid that grew up in Weston, near Oamaru, there was a lot of local history about Scott and the Antarctic and British history was taught in schools, so we knew all about it in the late '40s and '50s," he says.
"As Scott visited Oamaru on his way south there is a memorial, and the historic red sheds down at the wharf where the ship's crew arrived at their first landing on the way back, with the news that Scott and his party were lost."
There is substantially less marking the object of Robert Falcon Scott's expedition. The geographic South Pole is marked by a humble piece of copper pipe with a brass head. Movement in the ice mass moves it about 8m every year, so it is re-surveyed annually.
Mr Wilson has become familiar with the shifting, changing face of the pole. He has seen it bathed in constant sunlight from September to February and witnessed the darkness that falls in March and lasts until August.
"My favourite time is in February, when a huge orange light is refracted up from below the horizon that completely fills the sky. The immensity and grandeur of it is awesome and very difficult to catch with photography. Those images of orange light and the beauty and intensity of it all stay in your mind forever.
"There are also the whales. We had a ship tied up alongside the ice in the Bay of Whales, which was the same place Amundsen took his ship, and it really is the bay of whales. You could stand on the helideck and watch 30 or 40 of them diving under the ship. It was amazing.
"The light is the one that stays with you, though. When you are flying on your own and see it, you remember it as a special moment.
"There is also the people aspect of it. You get to make friends with like-minded people who have been involved with the ice for years and stay in touch with them and, in some cases, build working relationships with them that go on for years.
"I am still working with the leader of the German programme that I started out with 31 years ago. We flew for them again this last season.
"When you have worked down there for a long time, you end up caring about the place and what is happening to it. You quickly learn how fragile the place is. Marks and tracks stay in permafrost areas for years.
"You retain the beauty of the place in your mind. You remember the pristine conditions and care that they will always be there for future generations. You feel a personal responsibility having been part of it all," he says.
"There are a lot more environmental considerations and practices nowadays and awareness of the fragile nature of the place. In the old days, they'd just send all the rubbish and everything down to the bottom of McMurdo Sound.
"They'd even put broken-down trucks and bulldozers on an ice floe and then just wait for the ice to melt. There'd still be a big mess down there today.
"But, a lot of money has been spent on the environment in recent years. All human waste is now recovered from the field and flown back to New Zealand frozen. There are also proper sewerage schemes at the bases. It's not pop down behind a rock like it used to be."
New Zealand has carved its name in the ice. It was one of the original 12 signatories to the Antarctic Treaty in 1959 (there are now 46) and has maintained a presence there ever since.
"The Kiwis are known for their innovation and imagination and inventiveness in achieving a lot on a much lower budget than many other countries," Mr Wilson says.
"Many of them are very hard-working, particularly when they are attached to other international programmes as an individual."
Kiwis are also known for our resourcefulness. A popular landmark is a makeshift shower, built by New Zealanders from two 44-gallon drums.
The bottom drum is filled with rocks and kerosene and the top one with ice, which melts to provide steaming-hot water.
It is the simple pleasures that many yearn for during their time there.
"You miss fresh fruit and vegetables as the season goes on in remote areas where resupply is not available. Normally main bases get fresh food flown in by air frequently, but not always. Life revolves around food and a meal can be the high point of the day.
"You're pretty much confined to the area of operation so, after several months, you look forward to a change of people and living environment. It is always nice to get a few newspapers to read that are current. While you can get the news on the 'net, it's not the same as reading your local paper.
"In the early days there was only the ship's radio for communication back home, which was very difficult. You could send a telegram by Morse code to the Awarua Radio Station at Invercargill and wait days for a reply.
"Now there is email and internet and telephones available at every base. We have Iridium telephones in all the helicopters, so you can ring out from anywhere in Antarctica. The radio network in Antarctica is very comprehensive for flight-following nowadays."
Equipment was relatively basic when Mr Wilson first ventured south.
"We started with Hughes 500D models in 1979. Nowadays we use the Squirrel as the main helicopter type for use on the ice. They are fitted with skis, cargo hooks, ski baskets, mirrors, dual battery systems, VHF, HF and FM radios, GPS and Skytrac satellite flight-following systems and Iridium telephones.
"Flying conditions were much more difficult in remote areas in the old days, as there was no GPS," Mr Wilson says.
"There was only the ship to communicate with and field camps on HF radio. Homing back to the ship was provided by the engineer on board, using antiquated marine-band homing equipment, backed up by dead reckoning navigation in the cockpit.
"Operations like that are not viewed in the same way nowadays in the eyes of safety and quality procedures. Those days do not exist any more."
The harsh environment, with working conditions often minus 40degC, means people must also be specially kitted - with thermal underwear, down jackets, wind-proof overalls and insulated boots. Thin thermal or surgical gloves are also worn to prevent hands sticking to metal parts.
"It's so cold that dead bodies become mummified. You'll see the bodies of seals down there that have been there forever. Winds in Antarctica in excess of 100 knots are common. When the wind blows you have to wear earmuffs because of the noise," Mr Wilson says.
"Big blows can be very damaging and destructive to buildings and equipment, which just disappears if it is not secured. Blowing snow also obscures visual references and it's easy to get lost on the ground.
"Helicopters are often buried in snow in big blows. Security of items of equipment is vital, as it is easy for people to be hit by flying objects. In very strong winds you have to stay in a secure building or area or on the ship."
Mr Wilson was working at Cape Evans after Air New Zealand Flight TE901 crashed into Mt Erebus on November 28, 1979, killing all 257 people aboard.
It was New Zealand's worst aviation accident and, at the time, the fourth-worst in history.
"I was subpoenaed to the Justice Mahon inquiry over the accident and gave written evidence on flying conditions in Antarctica," he recalls.
Mr Wilson later received the 1996 Jim Collins Memorial Award, issued by the New Zealand Airline Pilots Association for exceptional contributions to air safety.
The medal was named for the captain of the ill-fated flight TE901.
• MAY BE SOME TIME
Nigel Benson and Jim Wilson will attend the Terra Nova centenary descendants' reunion at the Scott Polar Research Institute in Cambridge, England, on June 5 and 6. Nigel Lee Oates Benson is a descendant of Captain Lawrence Edward Grace Oates, who died near the South Pole during the expedition.
