Ranulph Fiennes' EXEL North Pole - Part 4

It was under water, but not sinking. I hauled on the traces, but they were jammed somewhere under the slabs. 70 days worth of food and 30 of fuel were on that sledge - and the communication gear; without it the expedition was over. The ice was moving - I had to save the sledge quickly.

With my feet (skis off) hooked around a slab, I lay on my stomach and stretched my left arm under the slab to free the sledge trace. I pushed up my sledge jacket sleeve and took off my outer mitt. In retrospect I may have been better off keeping it on, but I had to feel for the submerged rope.

For a minute or so I could not find the snag. Then, by jiggling the rope sharply, it came free. I pulled hard and the sodden sledge rose to the surface. My wet hand was numb, but I could not replace the mitt until the sledge was out of the sea. Minutes later the sledge was on 'dry land'. I danced about like a madman. Both my mitts were back on and I used my 'cold hands revival technique' to restore life to the numb fingers. This involves a fast windmill motion of the arm to force blood to the finger-tips. Usually blood returns painfully to all my fingers; this time it did not.

I took off the mitt and felt the dead hand. The fingers were ramrod stiff and ivory white. They might as well have been wooden. I knew that if I let my good hand go even partially numb, I would be unable to erect the tent and start the cooker, which I needed to do quickly for I was shivering in my thin hauling-clothes.

I returned to the big sledge. The next 30 minutes were a nightmare. The sledge-cover zip jammed. Precious minutes went by before I could free it and unpack the tent. By the time I had eased a tent-pole into one of the sleeves my teeth were chattering violently and my good hand was numb. I had to get the cooker going in minutes or it would be too late. I crawled into the partially erect tent, closed its door and began a 20-minute battle to start the cooker. I could not use the petrol lighter with my fingers, but found some matches I could hold in my teeth.

Starting an extremely cold petrol cooker involves careful priming so that just the right amount of fuel seeps into the pad below the fuel jet. Using my teeth and a numb index finger, I finally worked the pump enough to squirt fuel on to the pad, but was slow in shutting the valve; when I applied the match a 3 foot flame reached to the roof. Luckily I had had a custom-made flame lining installed, so the tent was undamaged. And the cooker was alight - one of the best moments of my life.

Slowly and painfully some life came back into the fingers of my good hand. All around the tent cracking noises sounded above the steady roar of the cooker. I was in no doubt as to the fate of my bad hand. I had seen enough frostbite in others to realise I was in serious trouble. I had to get to a hospital quickly to save some fingers from the surgeon's knife. I hated to leave the warmth of the tent. Both hands were excruciatingly painful. I battered ice off the smaller sledge and loaded it with only emergency provisions. I set out in great trepidation. Newly open leads had cut twice my earlier tracks, but luckily both needed only small diversions to detour the open water. 5 hours later I was back on the ice shelf. I erected the tent properly and spent 3 hours massaging my good hand and wet foot over the cooker.

I drank hot tea and ate chocolate. I felt tired and dizzy, but the wind was showing signs of rising and I knew I should not risk high wind chill. The journey to the hut took forever. When I came to the hut I erected the tent on the floor, started the cooker and prepared the communications gear. I spoke to Morag in Resolute Bay who promised to evacuate me the following day using a Twin Otter due to exchange weathermen at Eureka.

The fingers on my left hand began to grow liquid blisters. The pain was bad so I raided my medical stores for drugs. The next day I found an airstrip near the hut and marked its ends with kerosene rags. When I heard the approaching ski-plane, I lit the rags and an hour later I was on my to Eureka.

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