This is me. My name is Ben Saunders. I specialize in dragging heavy things around cold places.
Tas esmu es. Mani sauc Bens Saunderss. Es specializējos smagumu vilkšanā pa aukstām vietām.
On May 11th last year, I stood alone at the North geographic Pole. I was the only human being in an area one-and-a-half times the size of America, five-and-a-half thousand square miles. More than 2,000 people have climbed Everest. 12 people have stood on the moon. Including me, only four people have skied solo to the North Pole. And I think the reason for that -- (Applause) -- thank you -- I think the reason for that is that it's -- it's -- well, it's as Chris said, bonkers. It's a journey that is right at the limit of human capability. I skied the equivalent of 31 marathons back to back. 800 miles in 10 weeks. And I was dragging all the food I needed, the supplies, the equipment, sleeping bag, one change of underwear -- everything I needed for nearly three months. (Laughter) What we're going to try and do today, in the 16 and a bit minutes I've got left, is to try and answer three questions. The first one is, why? The second one is, how do you go to the loo at minus 40? "Ben, I've read somewhere that at minus 40, exposed skin becomes frostbitten in less than a minute, so how do you answer the call of nature?" I don't want to answer these now. I'll come on to them at the end. Third one: how do you top that? What's next?
Pagājušā gada 11. maijā es vienatnē stāvēju ģeogrāfiskajā ziemeļpolā. Es biju vienīgais cilvēks teritorijā, kas līdzvērtīga pusotrai Amerikai, vairāk nekā 14 000 kvadrātkilometru. Vairāk nekā 2000 cilvēku ir uzkāpuši Everestā. 12 cilvēki ir spēruši kāju uz Mēness. Mani ieskaitot, tikai četri cilvēki ir vienatnē slēpojuši uz Ziemeļpolu. Domāju, tas ir tāpēc... (Aplausi) Paldies! Domāju, tas ir, tāpēc ka, kā Kriss teica, tas ir neprāts. Šis ceļojums ir tuvu cilvēka spēju robežai. Vienā piegājienā noslēpoju attālumu, kas līdzvērtīgs 31 maratonam, 10 nedēļās apmēram 1300 km. Turklāt vilku līdzi visu nepieciešamo pārtiku, ekipējumu, guļammaisu, vienu veļas komplektu – visu gandrīz trīs mēnešiem nepieciešamo. (Smiekli) Turpmākajās nedaudz vairāk kā 16 minūtēs mēģināšu atbildēt uz trīs jautājumiem. Pirmais ir – kāpēc? Otrais – kā nokārtoties mīnus 40 grādu salā? "Ben, esmu lasījis, ka mīnus 40 grādos kaila āda gūst apsaldējumus nepilnas minūtes laikā. Ko dari, kad daba sauc?" Nevēlos atbildēt uzreiz, atgriezīšos pie tiem beigās. Trešais – kā domā to pārspēt? Ko tālāk?
It all started back in 2001. My first expedition was with a guy called Pen Hadow -- enormously experienced chap. This was like my polar apprenticeship. We were trying to ski from this group of islands up here, Severnaya Zemlya, to the North Pole. And the thing that fascinates me about the North Pole, geographic North Pole, is that it's slap bang in the middle of the sea. This is about as good as maps get, and to reach it you've got to ski literally over the frozen crust, the floating skin of ice on the Artic Ocean. I'd spoken to all the experts. I'd read lots of books. I studied maps and charts. But I realized on the morning of day one that I had no idea exactly what I'd let myself in for.
Viss sākās 2001. gadā. Mana pirmā ekspedīcija bija kopā ar ļoti pieredzējušu puisi vārdā Pens Hadovs. Tā bija tāda kā polārā apmācība. Mēģinājām slēpot no šīs salu grupas, no Severnaja Zemļa, uz Ziemeļpolu. Tas, kas mani fascinē saistībā ar Ziemeļpolu, ģeogrāfisko ziemeļpolu, ir tā novietojums tieši jūras vidū. Tas ir labākais atainojums kartē. Lai to sasniegtu, jāslēpo pāri ledus garozai, pāri Ziemeļu Ledus okeāna peldošajai ledus cepurei. Biju runājis ar ekspertiem, izlasījis daudz grāmatu, pētījis kartes un diagrammas. Bet pirmās dienas rītā sapratu, ka man nav ne jausmas, uz ko esmu parakstījies. Man bija 23 gadi.
I was 23 years old. No one my age had attempted anything like this, and pretty quickly, almost everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. We were attacked by a polar bear on day two. I had frostbite in my left big toe. We started running very low on food. We were both pretty hungry, losing lots of weight. Some very unusual weather conditions, very difficult ice conditions. We had decidedly low-tech communications. We couldn't afford a satellite phone, so we had HF radio. You can see two ski poles sticking out of the roof of the tent. There's a wire dangling down either side. That was our HF radio antenna. We had less than two hours two-way communication with the outside world in two months. Ultimately, we ran out of time. We'd skied 400 miles. We were just over 200 miles left to go to the Pole, and we'd run out of time. We were too late into the summer; the ice was starting to melt; we spoke to the Russian helicopter pilots on the radio, and they said, "Look boys, you've run out of time. We've got to pick you up." And I felt that I had failed, wholeheartedly. I was a failure.
Neviens manā vecumā nebija neko līdzīgu mēģinājis, un diezgan ātri gandrīz viss, kas varēja noiet greizi, nogāja greizi. Otrajā dienā mums uzbruka polārlācis. Apsaldēju kreisās kājas īkšķi. Mums sāka pietrūkt pārtika. Abi bijām diezgan izsalkuši un zaudējām daudz svara. Arī laika apstākļi bija savādi, un ledus bija neparasts. Bijām izlēmuši par primitīvu komunikāciju. Satelīttelefons bija par dārgu, tāpēc lietojām īsviļņu radio. Teltij piestiprinātās slēpju nūjas un vadi, kas karājas gar telts sienām – tā bija mūsu īsviļņu radio antena. Divu mēnešu laikā mums bija mazāk nekā divas stundas abpusējas komunikācijas ar ārpasauli. Galu galā mums pietrūka laika. Bijām noslēpojuši 650 kilometrus, līdz polam bija vēl 320 kilometri, un mums sāka trūkt laika. Tuvojās vasara, ledus sāka kust. Pa radio sazinājāmies ar krievu helikoptera pilotiem, kuri teica: "Puiši, jums vairs nav laika. Mums jāved jūs atpakaļ." No visas sirds jutos, ka esmu izgāzies. Es biju neveiksminieks.
The one goal, the one dream I'd had for as long as I could remember -- I hadn't even come close. And skiing along that first trip, I had two imaginary video clips that I'd replay over and over again in my mind when the going got tough, just to keep my motivation going. The first one was reaching the Pole itself. I could see vividly, I suppose, being filmed out of the door of a helicopter, there was, kind of, rock music playing in the background, and I had a ski pole with a Union Jack, you know, flying in the wind. I could see myself sticking the flag in a pole, you know -- ah, glorious moment -- the music kind of reaching a crescendo. The second video clip that I imagined was getting back to Heathrow airport, and I could see again, vividly, the camera flashbulbs going off, the paparazzi, the autograph hunters, the book agents coming to sign me up for a deal. And of course, neither of these things happened. We didn't get to the Pole, and we didn't have any money to pay anyone to do the PR, so no one had heard of this expedition.
Mans bērnības mērķis un sapnis, kopš sevi atceros, ne tuvu nebija sasniegts. Slēpojot bija divi iedomāti videoklipi, ko domās nepārtraukti atkārtoju, lai grūtos brīžos motivētu sevi doties uz priekšu. Pirmais bija par paša pola sasniegšanu. Skaidri redzēju, kā tieku filmēts no helikoptera, un fonā skanēja kas līdzīgs rokmūzikai. Man rokās slēpju nūja ar vējā plīvojošu Lielbritānijas karogu. Redzēju sevi iespraužam karogu Ziemeļpolā, – ak, brīnišķīgais mirklis! – mūzika sasniedz kulmināciju. Otrais videoklips, ko iztēlojos, bija atgriešanās Hītrovas lidostā. Un atkal spilgti redzēju kameru zibspuldzes, paparaci, autogrāfu medniekus, grāmatu aģentus, kas cenšas pierunāt noslēgt darījumu. Un, protams, nekas no tā nenotika. Mēs nenokļuvām līdz polam, mums nebija naudas, lai maksātu par publicitāti, tāpēc par ekspedīciju neviens neko nebija dzirdējis.
And I got back to Heathrow. My mum was there; my brother was there; my granddad was there -- had a little Union Jack -- (Laughter) -- and that was about it. I went back to live with my mum. I was physically exhausted, mentally an absolute wreck, considered myself a failure. In a huge amount of debt personally to this expedition, and lying on my mum's sofa, day in day out, watching daytime TV. My brother sent me a text message, an SMS -- it was a quote from the "Simpsons." It said, "You tried your hardest and failed miserably. The lesson is: don't even try." (Laughter)
Kad atgriezos Hītrovā, tur bija mana mamma un brālis, mans vectētiņš ar mazu karodziņu. (Smiekli) Tas arī viss. Atgriezos dzīvot pie mammas. Biju fiziski pārguris. Garīgi pilnīgi sagrauts, uzskatīju sevi par neveiksminieku. Ekspedīcijas dēļ biju lielos parādos, un, guļot uz mammas dīvāna, diendienā skatījos televizoru. Brālis atsūtīja īsziņu ar citātu no "Simpsoniem". Tur bija rakstīts: "Tu centies no sirds un pilnīgi izgāzies. Mācība: labāk nemaz necenties!" (Smiekli)
Fast forward three years. I did eventually get off the sofa, and start planning another expedition. This time, I wanted to go right across, on my own this time, from Russia, at the top of the map, to the North Pole, where the sort of kink in the middle is, and then on to Canada. No one has made a complete crossing of the Arctic Ocean on their own. Two Norwegians did it as a team in 2000. No one's done it solo. Very famous, very accomplished Italian mountaineer, Reinhold Messner, tried it in 1995, and he was rescued after a week. He described this expedition as 10 times as dangerous as Everest. So for some reason, this was what I wanted to have a crack at, but I knew that even to stand a chance of getting home in one piece, let alone make it across to Canada, I had to take a radical approach. This meant everything from perfecting the sawn-off, sub-two-gram toothbrush, to working with one of the world's leading nutritionists in developing a completely new, revolutionary nutritional strategy from scratch: 6,000 calories a day.
Pēc trīs gadiem beidzot piecēlos no dīvāna un sāku plānot nākamo ekspedīciju. Šoreiz gribēju vienatnē šķērsot attālumu no Krievijas, kartes augšpusē, līdz Ziemeļpolam, pa vidu, un tālāk līdz Kanādai. Neviens vienatnē vēl nav šķērsojis Ziemeļu Ledus okeānu. 2000. gadā divi norvēģi to paveica kopā. Neviens to nebija darījis vienatnē. Slavenais un izcilais itāļu alpīnists Reinholds Mesners mēģināja to paveikt 1995. gadā, un tika glābts jau pēc nedēļas. Viņš šo ekspedīciju raksturoja kā desmitkārt bīstamāku par kāpšanu Everestā. Kaut kāda iemesla dēļ man tas bija jāpamēģina. Sapratu, ka, lai būtu kaut neliela cerība, ka vienatnē tikšu līdz Kanādai un atgriezīšos mājās, man jāizmanto pilnīgi cita pieeja. Tas ietver uzlabojumus it visā, no zobu birstes saīsināšanas līdz nepilnu divu gramu svaram līdz sadarbībai ar vienu no pasaules vadošajiem dietologiem, izstrādājot pilnīgi jaunu, revolucionāru diētu. 6000 kalorijas dienā.
And the expedition started in February last year. Big support team. We had a film crew, a couple of logistics people with us, my girlfriend, a photographer. At first it was pretty sensible. We flew British Airways to Moscow. The next bit in Siberia to Krasnoyarsk, on a Russian internal airline called KrasAir, spelled K-R-A-S. The next bit, we'd chartered a pretty elderly Russian plane to fly us up to a town called Khatanga, which was the sort of last bit of civilization. Our cameraman, who it turned out was a pretty nervous flier at the best of times, actually asked the pilot, before we got on the plane, how long this flight would take, and the pilot -- Russian pilot -- completely deadpan, replied, "Six hours -- if we live." (Laughter) We got to Khatanga. I think the joke is that Khatanga isn't the end of the world, but you can see it from there. (Laughter) It was supposed to be an overnight stay. We were stuck there for 10 days. There was a kind of vodka-fueled pay dispute between the helicopter pilots and the people that owned the helicopter, so we were stuck. We couldn't move. Finally, morning of day 11, we got the all-clear, loaded up the helicopters -- two helicopters flying in tandem -- dropped me off at the edge of the pack ice. We had a frantic sort of 45 minutes of filming, photography; while the helicopter was still there, I did an interview on the satellite phone; and then everyone else climbed back into the helicopter, wham, the door closed, and I was alone.
Ekspedīcija sākās pagājušā gada februārī. Bija liela atbalsta komanda. Bija filmēšanas komanda, daži loģistikas speciālisti, mana draudzene un fotogrāfs. Sākumā viss bija diezgan saprātīgi. Lidojām uz Maskavu ar <i>British Airways</i>. Nākamais lidojums uz Krasnojarsku Sibīrijā ar Krievijas iekšzemes aviosabiedrību <i>KrasAir</i>. Pa burtiem tas būtu K-R-A-S. Tālāk ar diezgan senu krievu lidmašīnu, kas mūs aizveda uz pilsētu vārdā Katanga, kas bija pēdējā civilizētā vieta. Mūsu operators, kas izrādījās bailīgs lidotājs, pirms kāpšanas lidmašīnā pilotam jautāja, cik ilgs būs lidojums, un krievu pilots pilnīgā mierā atbildēja: "Sešas stundas, ja izdzīvosim." (Smiekli) Mēs nokļuvām Katangā. Mēdz jokot, ka Katanga nav pasaules mala, bet no Katangas to iespējams saskatīt. (Smiekli) Bijām plānojuši pārnakšņot, bet iestrēgām uz desmit dienām. Pilotam un helikoptera īpašniekiem radās šņabja veicināts strīds par samaksu. Bijām iestrēguši uz palikšanu. 11. dienas rītā beidzot viss noskaidrojās. Piekrāvām helikopterus. Divi helikopteri lidoja tandēmā un izlaida mani uz ledus blāķa malas. Bija izmisīga 45 minūšu filmēšana un fotografēšanās, kamēr helikopteri bija uz vietas. Mani intervēja pa satelīttelefonu. Tad visi sakāpa helikopteros, – bams! – durvis aizvērās, un es paliku viens.
And I don't know if words will ever quite do that moment justice. All I could think about was running back up to the door, banging on the door, and saying, "Look guys, I haven't quite thought this through." (Laughter) To make things worse, you can just see the white dot up at the top right hand side of the screen; that's a full moon.
Nezinu, vai iespējams vārdos aprakstīt šo mirkli. Domāju tikai par to, kā skriet atpakaļ, pieklauvēt un teikt: "Klau, šķiet neesmu visu līdz galam pārdomājis." (Smiekli) Lai padarītu visu vēl ļaunāku, redzat to balto punktu attēla augšējā labajā stūrī?
Because we'd been held up in Russia, of course, the full moon brings the highest and lowest tides; when you're standing on the frozen surface of the sea, high and low tides generally mean that interesting things are going to happen -- the ice is going to start moving around a bit. I was, you can see there, pulling two sledges. Grand total in all, 95 days of food and fuel, 180 kilos -- that's almost exactly 400 pounds. When the ice was flat or flattish, I could just about pull both. When the ice wasn't flat, I didn't have a hope in hell. I had to pull one, leave it, and go back and get the other one. Literally scrambling through what's called pressure ice -- the ice had been smashed up under the pressure of the currents of the ocean, the wind and the tides. NASA described the ice conditions last year as the worst since records began. And it's always drifting. The pack ice is always drifting. I was skiing into headwinds for nine out of the 10 weeks I was alone last year, and I was drifting backwards most of the time. My record was minus 2.5 miles. I got up in the morning, took the tent down, skied north for seven-and-a-half hours, put the tent up, and I was two and a half miles further back than when I'd started. I literally couldn't keep up with the drift of the ice.
Tas ir pilnmēness. Tā kā aizkavējāmies Krievijā, pienāca pilnmēness ar vislielākajām plūdmaiņām. Atrodoties uz sasalušas jūras virsmas, lielas plūdmaiņas principā nozīmē, ka notiks interesantas lietas – ledus nedaudz kustēsies. Kā redzat, vilku divas ragavas. Pārtika un viss 95 dienām nepieciešamais, kopā 180 kilogrami, gandrīz 400 mārciņas. Kad ledus bija samērā līdzens, varēju pavilkt abas. Kad ledus nebija līdzens, man nebija izvēles: bija jāpavelk vienas, jāatstāj un jāiet pakaļ otrajām. Burtiski kūlos pa ledus krāvumiem, okeāna straumju, vēja un plūdmaiņu sablīvētiem. NASA ziņoja, ka pagājušajā gadā bijuši novērojumu vēsturē sliktākie ledus apstākļi. Sablīvētais ledus visu laiku dreifē. Deviņas no desmit vienatnē pavadītajām nedēļām slēpoju pret vēju un lielākoties dreifēju atpakaļ. Rekords bija mīnus 4 kilometri. Pamodos, nojaucu telti, 7,5 stundas slēpoju uz ziemeļiem, uzcēlu telti un biju pavirzījies 4 kilometrus atpakaļ no sākuma punkta. Burtiski nespēju turēties līdzi ledus dreifēšanas tempam. (Video)
(Video): So it's day 22. I'm lying in the tent, getting ready to go. The weather is just appalling -- oh, drifted back about five miles in the last -- last night. Later in the expedition, the problem was no longer the ice. It was a lack of ice -- open water. I knew this was happening. I knew the Artic was warming. I knew there was more open water. And I had a secret weapon up my sleeve. This was my little bit of bio-mimicry. Polar bears on the Artic Ocean move in dead straight lines. If they come to water, they'll climb in, swim across it. So we had a dry suit developed -- I worked with a team in Norway -- based on a sort of survival suit -- I suppose, that helicopter pilots would wear -- that I could climb into. It would go on over my boots, over my mittens, it would pull up around my face, and seal pretty tightly around my face. And this meant I could ski over very thin ice, and if I fell through, it wasn't the end of the world. It also meant, if the worst came to the worst, I could actually jump in and swim across and drag the sledge over after me. Some pretty radical technology, a radical approach --but it worked perfectly.
Ir 22. diena. Guļu teltī, gatavojos doties ceļā. Laiks ir vienkārši briesmīgs. Pagājušajā naktī esmu aizdreifējis kādus astoņus kilometrus atpakaļ. Ekspedīcijas turpinājumā problēmas vairs nesagādāja ledus, bet gan tā trūkums. Zināju, ka Arktikā paliek siltāks, ka ir arvien vairāk atklāta ūdens, tomēr man bija viens slepenais ierocis – mazliet no biomimikrijas. Polārlāči pa Ziemeļu Ledus okeānu pārvietojas pilnīgi taisnās līnijās. Pietuvojoties ūdenim, viņi metas peldus. Sadarbojoties ar komandu Norvēģijā, bijām izveidojuši īpašu hidrotērpu, kam pamatā ir apģērbs, kas līdzinās helikopteru pilotu valkātajam. Varēju to uzvilkt pāri zābakiem un cimdiem, to var savilkt ap seju, un tas diezgan stingri ieskauj seju. Tas nozīmēja, ka varu slēpot pa ļoti plānu ledu, un, ja ielūztu, tas nebūtu pasaules gals. Tas nozīmēja arī, ka sliktākajā gadījumā varētu mesties ūdenī un pārpeldēt, velkot līdzi kamanas. Tāda diezgan radikāla tehnoloģija, radikāla pieeja, bet tā lieliski darbojās.
Another exciting thing we did last year was with communications technology. In 1912, Shackleton's Endurance expedition -- there was -- one of his crew, a guy called Thomas Orde-Lees. He said, "The explorers of 2012, if there is anything left to explore, will no doubt carry pocket wireless telephones fitted with wireless telescopes." Well, Orde-Lees guessed wrong by about eight years. This is my pocket wireless telephone, Iridium satellite phone. The wireless telescope was a digital camera I had tucked in my pocket. And every single day of the 72 days I was alone on the ice, I was blogging live from my tent, sending back a little diary piece, sending back information on the distance I'd covered -- the ice conditions, the temperature -- and a daily photo. Remember, 2001, we had less than two hours radio contact with the outside world. Last year, blogging live from an expedition that's been described as 10 times as dangerous as Everest. It wasn't all high-tech. This is navigating in what's called a whiteout. When you get lots of mist, low cloud, the wind starts blowing the snow up. You can't see an awful lot. You can just see, there's a yellow ribbon tied to one of my ski poles. I'd navigate using the direction of the wind. So, kind of a weird combination of high-tech and low-tech.
Vēl viena aizraujoša lieta, ko darījām pagājušajā gadā, bija saistībā ar komunikācijām. 1912. gadā Šekltona Izturības ekspedīcija, viens no tās dalībniekiem vārdā Tomass Orde Līss teicis: "2012. gada pētnieki, ja būs vēl palicis, ko pētīt, noteikti līdzi nēsās bezvadu kabatas telefonus, kas aprīkoti ar bezvadu teleskopiem." Orde Līss kļūdījās tikai par astoņiem gadiem. Šis ir mans mobilais telefons, irīdija satelīttelefons. Bezvadu teleskops bija digitālā kamera manā kabatā. Katru no 72 dienām, ko pavadīju uz ledus, es blogoju no savas telts. Sūtīju mazus dienasgrāmatas fragmentus un informāciju par pieveikto attālumu, par ledu, par temperatūru un dienas foto. Atcerieties, 2001. gadā mums bija nepilnu divu stundu kontakts ar ārpasauli. Pagājušajā gadā tiešraidē blogoju par ekspedīciju, kas raksturota kā desmitreiz bīstamāka par kāpšanu Everestā. Ne viss bija augstās tehnoloģijas. Šī ir navigācija sliktas redzamības apstākļos. Kad ir liela migla, zemi mākoņi un vējš dzenā sniegu. Nekas nav redzams. Varat redzēt pie slēpju nūjām piesietās, dzeltenās lentītes. Vadījos pēc vēja virziena. Tāda savāda augsto un zemo tehnoloģiju kombinācija.
I got to the Pole on the 11th of May. It took me 68 days to get there from Russia, and there is nothing there. (Laughter). There isn't even a pole at the Pole. There's nothing there, purely because it's sea ice. It's drifting. Stick a flag there, leave it there, pretty soon it will drift off, usually towards Canada or Greenland. I knew this, but I was expecting something. Strange mixture of feelings: it was extremely warm by this stage, a lot of open water around, and of course, elated that I'd got there under my own steam, but starting to really realize that my chances of making it all the way across to Canada, which was still 400 miles away, were slim at best. The only proof I've got that I was there is a blurry photo of my GPS, the little satellite navigation gadget. You can just see -- there's a nine and a string of zeros here. Ninety degrees north -- that is slap bang in the North Pole. I took a photo of that. Sat down on my sledge. Did a sort of video diary piece. Took a few photos. I got my satellite phone out. I warmed the battery up in my armpit. I dialed three numbers. I dialed my mum. I dialed my girlfriend. I dialed the CEO of my sponsor. And I got three voicemails. (Laughter) (Video): Ninety. It's a special feeling. The entire planet is rotating beneath my feet. The -- the whole world underneath me. I finally got through to my mum. She was at the queue of the supermarket. She started crying. She asked me to call her back. (Laughter)
Ziemeļpolā nokļuvu 11. maijā. Ceļš no Krievijas prasīja 68 dienas, un tur nekā nav. (Smiekli) Tur pat nav nekādas atzīmes. Nekā tur nav. Galvenokārt tāpēc, ka tas ir jūrā dreifējošs ledus. Tur iesprausts karogs drīz būs aizdreifējis, droši vien uz Kanādu vai Grenlandi. Es to zināju, bet tomēr kaut ko gaidīju. Savāds sajūtu jūklis. Tobrīd jau bija kļuvis diezgan silts, apkārt daudz atklāta ūdens. Protams, biju sajūsmināts, ka esmu paša spēkiem tur nokļuvis, bet sapratu, ka izredzes tikt līdz Kanādai, kas vēl joprojām ir 640 km attālumā, maigi izsakoties, bija švakas. Vienīgais pierādījums tam, ka biju tur, ir miglains GPS satelītnavigācijas attēls. Šeit redzams devītnieks ar nullīšu virteni. Deviņdesmit grādi ziemeļu platuma. Tas ir kā naglai uz galvas Ziemeļpolā. Nofotografēju to. Apsēdos uz ragavām. Ierakstīju dienas video. Uzņēmu pāris fotogrāfijas. Izvilku satelīttelefonu. Padusē sasildīju bateriju. Uzgriezu trīs numurus. Piezvanīju mammai, draudzenei un sponsorējošās kompānijas vadītājam. Sasniedzu trīs automātiskos atbildētājus. (Smiekli) (Video): Deviņdesmit. Tā ir īpaša sajūta. Visa planēta griežas zem manām kājām. Visa pasaule zem manām kājām. Beidzot sazvanīju mammu. Viņa bija rindā lielveikalā. Viņa apraudājās un teica, lai atzvanu. (Smiekli)
I skied on for a week past the Pole. I wanted to get as close to Canada as I could before conditions just got too dangerous to continue. This was the last day I had on the ice. When I spoke to the -- my project management team, they said, "Look, Ben, conditions are getting too dangerous. There are huge areas of open water just south of your position. We'd like to pick you up. Ben, could you please look for an airstrip?" This was the view outside my tent when I had this fateful phone call. I'd never tried to build an airstrip before. Tony, the expedition manager, he said, "Look Ben, you've got to find 500 meters of flat, thick safe ice." The only bit of ice I could find -- it took me 36 hours of skiing around trying to find an airstrip -- was exactly 473 meters. I could measure it with my skis. I didn't tell Tony that. I didn't tell the pilots that. I thought, it'll have to do. (Video): Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
Turpināju slēpot vēl nedēļu. Gribēju tikt pēc iespējas tuvāk Kanādai, pirms apstākļi kļūst pārāk bīstami. Šī bija pēdējā diena uz ledus. Kad runāju ar projekta komandu, viņi teica: "Klau, Ben, apstākļi kļūst pārāk bīstami. Uz dienvidiem no tevis ir lieli atklāta ūdens klajumi. Mēs gribētu tevi savākt. Ben, vai vari lūdzu atrast skrejceļu?" Šāds bija skats no telts šīs liktenīgās sarunas brīdī. Iepriekš nebiju būvējis skrejceļu. Ekspedīcijas vadītājs Tonijs teica: "Tev jāatrod 500 metri līdzena, droša biezuma ledus." Vienīgais piemērotais gabals, ko atradu, – lai to atrastu, slēpoju apkārt 36 stundas, – bija tieši 473 metrus garš. Varēju to izmērīt ar slēpēm. Tonijam un pilotiem to neteicu. "Būs vien jāiztiek, kā ir," nodomāju. (Video) Ou, ou, ou, ou, ou, ou.
It just about worked. A pretty dramatic landing -- the plane actually passed over four times, and I was a bit worried it wasn't going to land at all. The pilot, I knew, was called Troy. I was expecting someone called Troy that did this for a living to be a pretty tough kind of guy. I was bawling my eyes out by the time the plane landed -- a pretty emotional moment. So I thought, I've got to compose myself for Troy. I'm supposed to be the roughty toughty explorer type. The plane taxied up to where I was standing. The door opened. This guy jumped out. He's about that tall. He said, "Hi, my name is Troy." (Laughter). The co-pilot was a lady called Monica. She sat there in a sort of hand-knitted jumper. They were the least macho people I've ever met, but they made my day. Troy was smoking a cigarette on the ice; we took a few photos. He climbed up the ladder. He said, "Just -- just get in the back." He threw his cigarette out as he got on the front, and I climbed in the back. (Laughter) Taxied up and down the runway a few times, just to flatten it out a bit, and he said, "Right, I'm going to -- I'm going to give it a go." And he -- I've now learned that this is standard practice, but it had me worried at the time. He put his hand on the throttle. You can see the control for the engines is actually on the roof of the cockpit. It's that little bar there. He put his hand on the throttle. Monica very gently put her hand sort of on top of his. I thought, "God, here we go. We're, we're -- this is all or nothing." Rammed it forwards. Bounced down the runway. Just took off. One of the skis just clipped a pressure ridge at the end of the runway, banking. I could see into the cockpit, Troy battling the controls, and he just took one hand off, reached back, flipped a switch on the roof of the cockpit, and it was the "fasten seat belt" sign you can see on the wall. (Laughter) And only from the air did I see the big picture. Of course, when you're on the ice, you only ever see one obstacle at a time, whether it's a pressure ridge or there's a bit of water. This is probably why I didn't get into trouble about the length of my airstrip. I mean, it really was starting to break up.
Tas knapi izdevās. Diezgan dramatiska nosēšanās, lidmašīna riņķoja četrus apļus. Biju jau noraizējies, ka tā vispār nenolaidīsies. Zināju, ka pilotu sauc Trojs. Iedomājos, ka šādā vietā strādājošs Trojs varētu būt tāds skarbais vecis. Apraudājos, jo lidmašīnas nolaišanās bija diezgan emocionāls brīdis. Sapratu, ka man jāsaņemas Troja dēļ. Man taču jābūt sūrajam, skarbajam pētniekam. Lidmašīna pietuvojās. Durvis atvērās, izlēca tik garš puisis un teica: "Čau, mani sauc Trojs." (Smiekli) Otrā pilote bija sieviete vārdā Monika, viņa sēdēja tādā adītā džemperī. Viņos nebija ne kripatiņas mačisma, bet viņi bija labākais, kas todien notika. Trojs uz ledus izsmēķēja cigareti, uzņēmām pāris fotogrāfijas. Viņš uzrāpās pa trepītēm un teica: "Kāp tur aizmugurē!" Viņš izmeta cigareti pirms iekāpt priekšā, un es ierāpos aizmugurē. (Smiekli) Izbraucām šurpu turpu pa skrejceļu, lai mazliet izlīdzinātu ledu. Tad viņš teica: "Labi, es tagad mēģināšu." Nu zinu, ka tā parasti dara, bet tobrīd tas mani uztrauca. Viņš uzlika roku uz droseles. Varat redzēt, ka dzinēju kontrole atrodas pie kabīnes griestiem. Viņš uzlika roku uz droseles, Monika maigi uzlika roku uz viņa rokas. Nodomāju: "Ak Dievs, aiziet! Mēs... visu vai neko." Rāvāmies uz priekšu, palēcāmies uz skrejceļa. Paceļoties skrejceļa galā viena no slēpēm atšķēla ledus gabalu. Redzēju Troju cīnāmies ar kloķiem, viņš pacēla roku, pastiepās atpakaļ un nospieda slēdzi pie griestiem. Tā bija uz sienas redzamā drošības jostu aizsprādzēšanas zīme. (Smiekli) Tikai no augšas ieraudzīju kopainu. Protams, kad esi uz ledus, redzi tikai nākamo šķērsli, lai tas būtu ledus krāvums vai vaļējs ūdens. Tas droši vien ir iemesls, kāpēc neviens nesūdzējās par manu skrejceļu. Ledus tiešām sāka lūzt.
Why? I'm not an explorer in the traditional sense. I'm not skiing along drawing maps; everyone knows where the North Pole is. At the South Pole there's a big scientific base. There's an airstrip. There's a cafe and there's a tourist shop. For me, this is about exploring human limits, about exploring the limits of physiology, of psychology and of technology. They're the things that excite me. And it's also about potential, on a personal level. This, for me, is a chance to explore the limits -- really push the limits of my own potential, see how far they stretch. And on a wider scale, it amazes me how people go through life just scratching the surface of their potential, just doing three or four or five percent of what they're truly capable of. So, on a wider scale, I hope that this journey was a chance to inspire other people to think about what they want to do with their potential, and what they want to do with the tiny amount of time we each have on this planet. That's as close as I can come to summing that up.
Kāpēc? Neesmu pētnieks šī vārda tiešajā nozīmē. Neslēpoju apkārt, zīmējot kartes. Visi zina, kur atrodas Ziemeļpols. Dienvidpolā ir liela zinātniskā bāze. Tur ir skrejceļš, kafejnīca un suvenīru veikals tūristiem. Man svarīgākais ir cilvēka robežu atklāšana – atklāt psiholoģiskās, fizioloģiskās, kā arī tehnoloģiskās iespējas. Tas mani interesē. Kā arī personīgā potenciāla apzināšanās. Tas ļauj man atklāt robežas, mainīt šī robežas, lai noskaidrotu, cik tālu iespējams iet. Kopumā esmu pārsteigts, ka cilvēki dzīvo, izmantojot tikai daļu sava potenciāla, tikai trīs, četrus, piecus procentus no savām patiesajām spējām. Kopumā ceru, ka šis ceļojums, bija iespēja iedvesmot citus domāt par to, kā izmantot savu potenciālu un ko paveikt mazajā laika sprīdī, kas mums katram dots. Tas būtu apkopojums vienā teikumā.
The next question is, how do you answer the call of nature at minus 40? The answer, of course, to which is a trade secret -- and the last question, what's next? As quickly as possible, if I have a minute left at the end, I'll go into more detail. What's next: Antarctica. It's the coldest, highest, windiest and driest continent on Earth. Late 1911, early 1912, there was a race to be the first to the South Pole: the heart of the Antarctic continent. If you include the coastal ice shelves, you can see that the Ross Ice Shelf -- it's the big one down here -- the Ross Ice Shelf is the size of France. Antarctica, if you include the ice shelves, is twice the size of Australia -- it's a big place. And there's a race to get to the Pole between Amundsen, the Norwegian -- Amundsen had dog sleds and huskies -- and Scott, the British guy, Captain Scott. Scott had sort of ponies and some tractors and a few dogs, all of which went wrong, and Scott and his team of four people ended up on foot. They got to the Pole late January 1912 to find a Norwegian flag already there. There was a tent, a letter to the Norwegian king. And they turned around, headed back to the coast, and all five of them died on the return journey. Since then, no one has ever skied -- this was 93 years ago -- since then, no one has ever skied from the coast of Antarctica to the Pole and back. Every South Pole expedition you may have heard about is either flown out from the Pole or has used vehicles or dogs or kites to do some kind of crossing -- no one has ever made a return journey. So that's the plan. Two of us are doing it. That's pretty much it.
Nākamais jautājums bija, kā atbildēt dabas aicinājumam –40 grādos. Tas, protams, ir komercnoslēpums. Un pēdējais jautājums, Ko tālāk? Cik ātri vien iespējams. Ja beigās paliks minūte, es pie tā atgriezīšos. Ko tālāk? Antarktīda. Tas ir Zemes aukstākais, augstākais vējainākais un sausākais kontinents. 1911. gada beigās, 1912. gada sākumā norisinājās sacensība par to, kurš pirmais nokļūs Dienvidpolā – Antarktīdas sirdī. Ja ieskaitām piekrastes ledājus, redzams, ka Rosa ledājs, – tas ir tas lielais šeit apakšā, – Rosa ledājs ir Francijas izmērā. Antarktīda, ieskaitot ledājus, ir divreiz lielāka par Austrāliju. Tā ir milzīga. Par nokļūšanu Dienvidpolā sacentās norvēģis Amundsens, kam bija suņu kamanas un haskiji, un britu kapteini Skotu, kam bija poniji, daži traktori un suņi. Skotam viss nogāja greizi, beigās viņš ar vīriem palika kājniekos. Sasniedzot Dienvidpolu 1912. gada janvāra beigās, viņi tur atrada Norvēģijas karogu. Tur bija telts, vēstule Norvēģijas karalim. Viņi pagriezās, lai dotos atpakaļ uz piekrasti, un visi pieci gāja bojā atpakaļceļā. Kopš tā laika – tas bija pirms 93 gadiem – neviens nav slēpojis no piekrastes līdz polam un atpakaļ. Katra ekspedīcija, par kuru dzirdēts, ir sākusies no Dienvidpola, tajā izmantots transports, suņi, pūķi vai citi palīglīdzekļi. Neviens nav devies turpu un atpakaļ. Tāds arī ir plāns. Mēs esam divi. Tas arī viss.
One final thought before I get to the toilet bit, is -- is, I have a -- and I meant to scan this and I've forgotten -- but I have a -- I have a school report. I was 13 years old, and it's framed above my desk at home. It says, "Ben lacks sufficient impetus to achieve anything worthwhile." (Laughter) (Applause) I think if I've learned anything, it's this: that no one else is the authority on your potential. You're the only person that decides how far you go and what you're capable of. Ladies and gentlemen, that's my story. Thank you very much.
Vēl pēdējā lieta pirms tualetes jautājuma. Gribēju ieskenēt, bet aizmirsu... Man ir skolas liecība. Toreiz man bija 13 gadu. Tā ir ierāmēta mājās uz galda, un tajā rakstīts: "Benam trūkst uzņēmības, lai paveiktu kaut ko nozīmīgu." (Smiekli) (Aplausi) Ja esmu kaut ko iemācījies, tad to, ka neviens nevar būt jūsu potenciāla noteicējs. Jūs esat vienīgais, kas izlemjat, cik tālu iesiet un ko spējat. Dāmas un kungi, šis ir mans stāsts. Liels paldies!