Annapurna (20 page)

With reference to this subject see the reports by Dr Oudot in the
Presse Médicale:

³
Nylon bag for the legs to protect them from the cold.

⁴
A carrying frame made of canvas and straps worn like a rucksack in which an injured climber can sit.

⁵
We’re going now.

10

The Sickle

IT WAS NOW
the evening of the 24th, and Sarki had left with the all-important order of the day on the morning of the 23rd. Ichac told me that he had met our messenger careering down the gullies of the Miristi Khola, when he himself was coming up, as planned, to meet us. He and Oudot were delighted to learn that we had established camps up to nearly 21,700 feet
¹
in such record time. That evening at Base Camp there was a general feeling of gaiety, and how delightful it was to relax in optimism and creature comfort! We had a delicious meal: chicken in aspic and a bottle of rum. (Terray was later to complain bitterly that we might have waited for him for this feast!) But in the end our physical exhaustion – as well as these other excesses – got the better of us.

We rose late next morning; we were pretty stiff after all our exertions, but in the warm sun soon began to show signs of life. I decided to go and wash, and even to shave. It was wonderful to feel clean again and to move about at ease in camp boots. I was able to see things more clearly, and plans for the coming struggle were beginning to take shape. This was uppermost in all our minds – as was quite clear from the way the others, field-glasses in hand, discussed the problems of the assault. As for myself, I had taken my decisions; but, there was the question of supplies to be dealt with. I had every confidence in Noyelle, who had prepared the ‘mobilization’ at Tukucha a good time in advance, and after a long series of calculations I felt reassured. There was no danger on that score – all our strength could be concentrated in the spearhead of the attack. So I decided to leave that afternoon with Rébuffat for Camp I, without hurrying, and to take a number of loads with us; we were determined not to come down again unless victorious. I wrote my last letter to Lucien Devies.

Base Camp,

May 25th, 1950

My dear Devies,

A final note before the attack. Everything is going well. Base Camp is three to four days from Tukucha and this doesn’t help matters. The change-over from a strong reconnaissance to a full-scale attack might have proved extremely difficult at this distance from our starting point. Yesterday I went up to 21,700 feet. The route lies entirely over snow and ice. Objective dangers are comparatively small. Camps are situated thus: Base Camp on the right bank of the North Annapurna glacier at 14,500 feet. Camp I, also on the right bank, on the edge of a large plateau very like the upper Argentière plateau, at 16,750 feet. Camp II on a glacier that descends directly from the summit of Annapurna, on a little plateau at 19,350 feet. In due course I expect to pitch Camp III at about 21,700 feet, Camp IV at about 24,600 on what we call the ‘Sickle’ glacier. (You will see this at once on Matha’s drawings and sketch-map.) We may set up a Camp V – it all depends on the lie of the land.

The weather is fine in the mornings and bad in the evenings. It snows a lot, which is a fearful nuisance, for we sink in terribly. Everybody’s fit. In a few minutes I am going up to Camp I. During the next few days we shall make the final assault. We are all very hopeful. Conditions are difficult high up, but if we get to the top we shall be so overjoyed we’ll forget all that. I haven’t time for more as there’s a lot to be done, as you can imagine. Matha will explain the situation in more detail.

Yours ever,

M
AURICE

While I was writing, the porters and the Sherpas had finished striking camp under Couzy’s directions. After our meal the weather became very cloudy, and by 3.30 it was snowing. I thought of Terray who had left Camp I early that morning with two high-altitude units, plus twenty pounds of food, intending to carry on up to Camp III and spend the night there. When we left at about 5 o’clock it was snowing hard, but nevertheless we went up rapidly and reached Camp I by nightfall. Quickly we pitched one of the valley tents in which we all three slept. Rébuffat complained again of his sunburn, and of his lips, which were very sore.

The alarm watch rang at 6.30. ‘Sherpas … Sherpas!’ But they were in no hurry and preparations dragged on. Through the glasses we picked out three black dots on the mountain a bit above and to the left of the highest point we ourselves had reached. ‘No doubt that’s Camp III,’ we thought. We left at about 10 o’clock for Camp II: Rébuffat and Dawathondup on one rope – this Sherpa had been
passed
on to us by Ichac with various warning injunctions
²
– and Lachenal, Angdawa and I on another. It was appallingly hot on the great plateau, and Lachenal suffered terribly. He plodded along in a daze, streaming with sweat, and when anyone spoke to him he looked up with dull and anguished eyes, and took advantage of the least excuse to flop down. Rébuffat had stomach pains which got worse and worse so that in the end we had to take it in turns to carry his sack. Progress was most difficult. At the end Lachenal was practically dragging himself along, and the last hundred yards to Camp II were a drawn-out agony for him. He had stuck a bit of elastoplast on to his terribly burnt lips, which gave them a slight protection. It was the only light coloured patch on his brown face, and it looked very odd.

At Camp II we found Terray, Pansy and Aila who had just come down. Terray was highly excited: ‘There’s no time to lose,’ he said. ‘Yesterday I went up to 22,000 feet and I couldn’t find the equipment you left – so I suppose it must have been completely buried under the snow. At the point we got to there was no sign of a platform. So Pansy and Aila and I made one with our axes, but it’s far from level, and right in the middle of a slope. The three of us spent the night in this tiny shelter with avalanches coming down all round us.’

To make his account more realistic he imitated the sound of the snow cascading down a few yards away from him, or perhaps even only a few inches. Then he laughed and went on:

‘The Sherpas weren’t very happy and neither was I! After such a night we weren’t fit for anything but coming down, so here we are. I’m going back to Camp I to recuperate.’

‘Right,’ I said, ‘I think it’s the best thing to do. Couzy and Schatz are coming up with Ichac and Oudot to Camp I, so you’ll be able to rest in comfort. Also this will mean you can make an extra journey up, with a load – these damned loads are always on my mind.’

‘I left our stuff at 22,000 feet,’ Terray went on, ‘probably further to the left than the point you reached. Our place is in the middle of a slope, fifty yards to the right of a line of seracs.’ He did up his
sack
, hailed the Sherpas, threw them each a loop of rope, and then, bidding us farewell in his deep voice, off he went.

We were now alone at Camp II. Neither Lachenal’s nor Rébuffat’s morale was very high, for they were not feeling too good. Moreover Terray’s remarks about deep snow had not exactly encouraged them – they had already had a taste of it on the first trip. I realized that I must not push them too hard next day if I wanted to be able to count on them later. There were two Sherpas available, as well as equipment and the food that we had brought up. Why should I not go on, and try to establish Camp III, and even perhaps Camp IV, while the other two were resting? If I were to stay above Camp II for more than a day, then they, along with Schatz and Couzy, who would have arrived by then, would in their turn be able to carry stuff up to the higher camps. In view of the way things were going, and the fact that it was already May 26th, the four Sahibs would have to move up a stage – from Camp II to Camp III – and continue their slow progression, without any further descent, from camp to camp, up to the very top. Meanwhile Terray would come up again, fighting fit, and it should be possible for me to do another carry; in this way all the camps would be established in the least possible time.

For once it was fine in the afternoon. While the other two slept soundly in their tents, I went over all the equipment and got things ready for next morning.

At dawn I began to chivvy Dawathondup and Angdawa. We had to get off early so as to take advantage of the hardness of the snow after the night frost, and the sun had not yet touched the camp when we left. I retraced Terray’s descending tracks up towards the terminal shoot of the couloir. I had the camera and hoped to be able to get some pictures. In the couloir I made Dawathondup go first to see if he could cut steps reasonably well, but when we reached the pitch with the fixed rope there was no further question: the Sahib had to do his stuff. This reminded me of the story Terray had told me the night before: at this same point he had been on the rope with Pansy and Aila, Pansy leading. As they got near to the wall a look of terror spread over Pansy’s face and he just dug his ice-axe firmly in the snow. Terray, the ‘strong man’ as the Sherpas called him, said: ‘Carry on, Pansy, your turn.’ And Pansy answered with a broad grin, ‘No thank you, for Sahib only!’

ANNAPURNA SEEN FROM CAMP I
Routes between Camps II and IVA. The Camps are shown as black dots.

Terray found it useless to press the point!

Dawathondup felt the same way as Pansy, but this time I wanted to take a few shots with the cine-camera so I pushed Angdawa into the lead. He was shaking with fright as he passed in front of me, but proceeded to lead up, since the Bara Sahib had willed it so. I held him firmly on the end of the rope and while he grappled with the pitch I manipulated the camera as best I could, lying awkwardly on the ice ledge, hardly able to lift my head on account of the overhang. Angdawa’s efforts soon came to an end and in spite of the security of the rope I had not the heart to ask him to go on, so I took his place and went ahead. It was considerably easier with the fixed line, and in a few seconds I had hoisted myself up to the little stance on the right, twenty-five feet above. There I fixed a belay and brought up Dawathondup, who found the going pretty difficult – the idea of climbing up ice had never entered his head. I felt that the prestige of the Sahibs was rising rapidly! Dawathondup arrived, puffing like a grampus, his face screwed up with effort. I showed him how to bring Angdawa up on the rope, while I took a shot of the proceedings. It all went off very well.

We sorted ourselves out and went on. But while we had been busy, time had slipped by; the sun was now directly overhead and beating down so fiercely on the slopes that we were wallowing in slush. It was most exhausting work and by now Terray’s tracks were barely visible. Anyway, as they now went off to the left and I wanted to pick up the equipment we had dumped on the first trip, I continued straight up. Soon afterwards I recognized the serac shaped like a crescent moon. I poked round with my ice-axe for a while and finally located some compact objects: the stuff was there. We cleared away the snow, and sure enough we found the tent, quite complete, with the food and equipment which Lachenal, Rébuffat and myself had taken up three days before. We lifted the lot, and tried to rejoin Terray’s tracks over on the left. They were fifty yards away, but it took us nearly an hour to reach them, for we had to make a regular trough, sinking in up to our waists in the snow. At last we reached the track at the foot of a very steep wall of bare and shining ice. The steps cut by Terray had already almost melted away and I had to re-cut the whole pitch. To make it easier for the Sherpas I drove in a big ice-piton at the top of the wall and fixed a long nylon line to it. Then I went up a few steps higher so
as
to be able to belay them well. I saw my Sherpas, one after the other, make wonderful pendulums, yell as they found themselves on their backsides, and then roar with laughter at the whole business.

We were now above the whole area of alternate ice walls and snow slopes. Lifting my head and looking upwards, I saw an even snow slope in the middle of which I could pick out Terray’s tracks. On the left was the great central couloir, very steep and looking as if it were waiting to swallow up anything and everything that fell from the upper slopes. The air was luminous, and the light was tinged with the most delicate blue. On the other side of the couloir, ridges of bare ice refracted the light like prisms and sparkled with rainbow hues. The weather was still set fine – not a single cloud – and the air was dry. I felt in splendid form, and as if, somehow, I had found a perfect balance within myself – was this, I wondered, the essence of happiness?

But after all we had still a long way to go. Like ants getting over an enormous obstacle we climbed up without appearing to make any progress. The slope was very steep, and also the snow began to ball up under our feet, which made me keep an extra watchful eye on the Sherpas. Every other yard I stopped to get my breath: behind me I could feel the two Sherpas oppressed by the tremendous effort required. From time to time I looked up to gauge the distance we had to go. Suddenly I spotted a patch of bright yellow – undoubtedly Terray’s tent. After an eternity of ploughing through the thick, treacherous snow we at last reached his highest point. The food and equipment were buried in the snow, but they were carefully wrapped in a
pied d’éléphant
– a nylon bag into which you put both legs, to protect them from the cold. I was very pleased to have got so far, but the site puzzled me. There could be no question of re-establishing Camp III on the slope itself. To the right there was a deep drop, to the left a cataract of seracs, on the far side of which ran the central couloir, and fifty yards above us a very broken-up area began. Looking at the seracs on the left I noticed that the crevasses between them were all blocked with fresh snow. Why not … ? An idea had come into my head: why not put the camp right there in a crevasse? Given the height, and the lie of the ground, it would be completely blocked up. Moreover the
neighbouring
seracs would form a splendid protection against avalanches. And so ‘Why not?’ became ‘Let’s go and have a look.’