Geoscience Reference
In-Depth Information
T
HIS WAS
Brian's second visit to Svalbard. Eleven years earlier, in 1938, he had been there as a young
graduate, part of a brief student expedition. Svalbard's rocks had immediately intrigued him. They
were among the oldest in the world, and many had formed in the Precambrian, that long Dark Age of
the Earth. Brian realized that these rocks could provide a rare window into this ancient, mysterious
time. But they were also remote and inaccessible, covered for the most part with a thick blanket of ice.
In just a few places, dark, conical mountaintops and ridges of rock poked out above the snow. Brian
had been intrigued by these outcrops. He'd caught glimpses of great rocky cliffs bearing giant folds
and faults. Where did the folds come from? How had the mountains formed? What could they reveal
about the workings of the world?
On the '38 expedition, there had been little chance to find out. The expedition had other priorities.
Brian was the only geologist among a group of geographers. There were ice-forms to study, and maps
to make, and not enough time for everything. And then the Second World War had intervened. But
now Brian was back, thirty-two years old, a fully-fledged Cambridge academic running his own show.
This time he could decide for himself where to go and what to study. The geology of the islands was
a blank, and he was determined to fill it in. He wanted to understand every outcrop, every layer of
Earth's prehistory.
This was Brian's first time as expedition leader, and he felt the responsibility keenly. He was a
slight man with pinched features and a nervous disposition. Brian planned, some people said, to ex-
cess. Most of his time beforehand was spent worrying over details. For every problem he had a con-
tingency. When it came to samples, notebooks, photographs, all the paraphernalia of a geological ex-
pedition, Brian's numbering systems were complex, consistent and legendary. Everything had its own
alphabetical or numerical code. Every item of equipment slotted neatly and clearly into the overall
plan.
The expedition food was chosen for high calorific content rather than taste. There was margarine,
processed cheese, sugar, oats, biscuits, chocolate and a fatty mix of dried meat called pemmican, all
the same items that had sustained Antarctic explorers like Scott and Shackleton just a few decades
earlier. This simple, efficient and egalitarian diet had appealed strongly to Brian's utilitarian instincts
on the '38 Svalbard expedition, and he saw no reason to change it. (In later years he would bow to the
necessity of supplementing the dull basic rations with spices, delicacies and other extras, but he never
really approved.)
He had, however, learned one important lesson. In 1938, everyone had been ravenous. The rations
had been designed for Antarctic expeditions using dog teams. Man-hauling required much more en-
ergy than the food provided, and there had never been enough to eat. When you're constantly hungry,
staying warm becomes more and more difficult. At night your dreams are laden with food. You fantas-
ize about medieval feasts and sweet-shops and huge, rich desserts. And when you wake, you have to
force yourself to harness up to a heavily laden sledge while your stomach is gnawing and your limbs
feel weak and tired. The food on Brian's '49 expedition might have been dull, but he made sure it was
plentiful.
Brian's watchwords—a legacy, perhaps, of his Quaker upbringing—were fairness, order and ef-
ficiency. He had already set in place the rules that were to govern his expeditions for the next forty
years. No hoarding of food was allowed. Rations were divided evenly, and your portion belonged to
you until midnight. Anything you hadn't eaten by then reverted to the general pile. Also, you were
strictly forbidden to bring any additional delicacies secreted in your pack. What one member of the
expedition ate, everyone ate. You could break these food rules if you chose, but only furtively and with
a guilty aftertaste. Few people tried. Brian was scrupulously honest, and his attitude somehow spread.
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