When we turned our backs on the Central Tower of Paine in January, 1972, we wondered whether we would ever have a chance to try it again. In our time a problem such as the 1 200 m East Face of the Central Tower cannot be left too long without attracting the attention of the mountaineering world.
Early in January, 1973, I received a letter from John Amatt, asking me for details of the East Face. He was thinking of making it the objective of his Patagonian expedition for the end of 1973. I decided to start planning another expedition to the Paine and wrote back to Amatt, who replied that they would plan to climb the South-East face of the Fortress instead.
Selecting a team was a difficult task, but the expedition eventually consisted of the following: Mike Scott, who was deputy leader, and his wife, Doreen; Art McGarr; Mervyn Prior; Roger Fuggle; Richard Smithers and his wife, Heather; my wife, Janet, and I. Fanie van der Merwe and André van der Heever came along to make documentary films of the climb. We received the support of the MCSA and through them obtained a grant from the Department of Sport and Recreation. Sponsorship of Fanie's films provided further financial support. South African Airways contributed three return tickets to Buenos Aires and Aerolineas Argentinas promised free airfreight.
Each member of the expedition had his share of the preparations. Mike was equipment officer, Art and Merv saw to the catering and food donations, and Janet and Richard made up a medical kit. I asked Richard and Heather Smithers to make three light belay seats to make the étrier stances more bearable, and two strong haul sacks to pull equipment and bivouac gear up the face. In liaison with Richard Hoare, who was at Cambridge at the time, I handled the overseas orders, while Roger promised to bring along some of the latest in nut runners from the USA, including two 'double cam nuts' for use in wide flaring cracks. He also brought two single-point suspension hammocks for bivouacking on the vertical rock face. From previous experience we knew that fixed ropes were essential on a big-wall route in the Patagonian Andes. Mike had done research and concluded that multi-filament polypropylene rope would be best, being strong, light and abrasion-resistant. The latter property was important in view of the high winds we were to encounter. This rope's virtual inelasticity also makes it very convenient for prusiking. After trying one supplier after another, however Mike managed to get only about 300 m of it, so that we had to make do with commercial nylon rope for the other 1 000 m. Fortunately we had enough polypropylene rope for the snowfields at the foot of the face, where its low moisture-absorbing properties made it less susceptible to icing-up than nylon rope.
To obtain permission to enter the Paine I wrote to the Federaçion de Andinismo de Chile and to the Chilean Ministry of the Exterior. The president of the Federaçion sent a very encouraging reply, but as Allende's government was overthrown a few days after I had written I was not surprised to hear nothing from the Ministry. Less than two months before departure date Aerolineas Argentinas suddenly withdrew their offer of free airfreight, leaving us with the problem of getting almost 800 kg of equipment over to Patagonia. Fortunately a member of the MCSA managed to get us some free seafreight on a boat leaving Cape Town for Buenos Aires on November 7, and a further grant from the Department of Sport helped to cover the cost of airfreighting the items we could not send by sea.
Merv Prior left five days before our departure date, November 26, in order to clear the freight through the harbour customs, and Roger flew across early from the USA to help him. Less than two weeks before departure one of the most essential equipment orders from overseas had not yet arrived and we learnt that it had been sent off from England by sea only on October 24. Fortunately Richard and Heather Smithers could only leave on December 5, so that they were able to bring this equipment along when they came.
On November 26, Art, Janet and I, Fanie and André left Jan Smuts Airport for Cape Town, where Mike and Doreen Scott joined us. Here we discovered that one of our airfreight consignments had been left behind at Jan Smuts - and the next flight to Buenos Aires was only on December 5. The official helping us at the airport assured us that they would get the freight to Buenos Aires much earlier by rerouting it through Rio de Janeiro, but we took off with mixed feelings.
At the airport in Buenos Aires Roger and Mervyn reported that they had made little progress in clearing our consignment of seafreight through the harbour customs. We were to fly south to Rio Gallegos on the morning of November 28, but Merv and I decided to stay behind to deal with the uncooperative customs officials while the others went on to Rio Gallegos to buy the provisions we still needed for our seven weeks' stay in the mountains. Later that morning our equipment was at last released and we immediately airfreighted it to Rio Gallegos, capital of the Argentinean province of Santa Cruz. It was not until the following day, however, that our lost airfreight consignment arrived. We again had to run the gauntlet of customs officials, but by that evening we had cleared the airfreight and the following morning Merv and I were on the flight southward.
I had written to Sen. Valdes, the Chilean who had driven us to the Paine in 1971, and he was in Rio Gallegos to meet us with his truck. We were forced to wait for an extra day because of another unexpected delay in the arrival of one of the consignments sent from Buenos Aires, but on the morning of December I we finally left Rio Gallegos.
It was getting dark by the time we reached the Chilean border. The Argentinean customs let us pass unsearched when they saw the mountainous jumble of equipment. The Chilean customs, too, gave us no trouble, and we were delighted to discover that the stipulation that travellers had to exchange 20 dollars a day at the border was no longer in force. From the border post at Cerro Castillo we turned north for the last 50 km to the Paine. The road was by now a narrow track, wet and slippery, and in the dark, a mere I 0 km from our destination, the truck slipped off the tracks into a muddy ditch. After ten minutes of trying in vain to get it back on the road Sen. Valdes decided to wait for morning.
The next morning was bright and breezy and with everyone pushing, pulling and shouting instructions the truck was soon on the road and we were off again. As the road came over the brow of a hill a magnificent view of the Paine unfolded before us, with the three Towers dominating the scene. Straight ahead was the Rio Ascensio valley, flanked on the left by the massive snow-covered Paine Chico and on the right by a long ridge of shaly black rock. Base camp was to be high up in this valley, a few hours' walk from the foot of the East Face of the Central Tower. Far over to the left we could just see the mouth of the Rio Frances valley, where base camp had been on our previous expedition, and beyond it the Paine Grande rose into the clouds. The two peaks we had climbed then, the Sword and the Cuerno Norte, were hidden from view.
At the Estancia Laguna Amarga (Bitter Lake) we stopped to arrange transport from the bridge over the Rio Paine to the roadhead. The bridge was too narrow for Sen. Valdes's truck to cross, but there was still about eight kilometres of landrover track from there to the Estancia Cerro Paine, near the mouth of the Rio Ascensio valley. Sen. Valdes dropped us at the bridge and arranged to come and fetch us again on January 24, seven and a half weeks hence.
We pitched our base tent in a sheltered glade on the banks of the Rio Paine and set about sorting out food and fuel into weekly parcels. Janet was to be sergeant-major of catering, one of her main tasks being to make sure that we did not start on a new week's supply before it was due.
The following morning an advance party consisting of Mike, Roger, Art and Doreen set off with enough food and equipment to establish Base Camp high up in the Rio Ascensio valley. Mervyn and the two photographers would make a carry to the Estancia Cerro Paine while Janet and I remained behind in case transport arrived. A while later a small landrover drove up with two policemen and a driver. The driver was the manager of the Estancia Cerro Guido and the, two policemen were from the police post on the ranch. We loaded the landrover and drove along the bumpy track to the Estancia Cerro Paine, leaving Janet behind to strike camp and get it ready for the next load. It took a total of four journeys to get everything across, but our helpers refused to accept any form, of remuneration apart from a few slabs of chocolate and the promise of some ropes at the end of the expedition.
Meanwhile the others had found the old bridge across the Rio Ascensio completely collapsed, only a few wire cables being left across the torrent. They constructed a makeshift footbridge of planks and bits of wire and this lasted very well, with occasional minor repairs. The time taken in building the bridge made it too late to continue up the valley, so they carried their loads up to a knoll on the mountainside, from where it was possible to traverse into the valley, and made a small dump camp there. By that evening most of us had made a carry or two to the dump camp.
The farmhouse at the Estancia Cerro Paine is situated in a sheltered spot next to a small hill, about 15 minutes' walk from our bridge across the Rio Ascensio. The owner, Sen. Juan Radic, was not there at the time but he was expecting us because I had asked Sen. Valdes in one of my letters to obtain permission for us to cross and camp on the farm. One of the gauchos allowed us to use a derelict little shed for storing what we did not need to take up the mountain initially.
The next day everybody but myself set off up the valley with heavy loads to establish base camp. I was suffering from a cold and decided to stay in camp and start sorting out the mass of climbing gear, ranging from tiny rurps to four-inch bongs, as well as myriads of nuts of various shapes and sizes, from tiny panic buttons' to large hexcentrics. There were sky-hooks, cam-nuts, a bolt kit we hoped we would not need but which we had to have, and all the other paraphernalia of ‘technocratic garbage' that the modern climber drapes around himself. We also had a complete set of snow-and-ice climbing gear for the glacier below the East Face and for the initial snowfields at its foot.
Mike, Roger and Janet knew the walk up the valley from, the previous expedition and it took them only about four hours to reach a site in a glade of huge beech trees, where they decided to make Base Camp. Later that afternoon, shortly after Janet had returned from the valley, a landrover drove up and two policemen got out, both from the police post at Cerro Castillo. I was handed a note in English with the curt message that the whole expedition must pack their bags and return immediately to Puerto Natales to report to police headquarters there.
This was terrible news. To get the equipment and food out of the mountains would take two days and as everybody else, apart from Fanie and André, were spending the night up at the new Base Camp it would be midday the following day before the others heard the news and could start carrying out the things. I suggested to the policemen that it would be sufficient if I as leader accompanied them to Puerto Natales with copies of the letters I had written to the authorities before the military coup as well as the invitation we had received from the Federaçion de Andinismo. They agreed that this would be the sensible course of action under the circumstances. We drove off, leaving an anxious Janet behind to pass on the news to the others and to tell them to stop all mountaineering activities until further notice.
We arrived at Cerro Castillo after dark. The following morning the policemen radioed through to Puerto Natales and then got me a lift on a truck carrying bales of wool for the last 50 km or so to Puerto Natales. Here Captain Corvalan told me that we did not have the requisite permission from the military authorities. He was very sympathetic, however, and suggested that we go and see the military governor of the province to see if he could suggest a solution. I waited anxiously for an hour until the captain appeared with the good news that the governor had telegraphed Santiago for permission on our behalf and that he was fairly sure it would be granted. Although it was about seven o'clock in the evening I immediately set off to hitch-hike back to the Paine, where I arrived at the Estancia late the following afternoon. The rest of the expedition were all there. Because of the uncertainty they had not made any further carries up to Base but had instead carried loads up to the dump camp on the knoll, to be carried further to Base at a later date. We decided to make a carry up to Base the following day but to return to the estancia that evening.
Early next morning, December 8, we were woken by a shout outside our tent. There was Sen. Ulloa, manager of the Estancia Laguna Amarga, on horseback with the news that the permission had come through from Santiago and that we could go ahead. Camp immediately broke out in jubilant, frenzied activity and a few hours later we were all trudging heavily laden up the valley.
After crossing the river we had a steep pull up a grassy slope to the dump camp and from there we traversed into the valley across a steep scree slope which led to some boggy meadows along the river bank. Then the path pulled away from the river again, passing alternately through protected beech groves and open meadows sprinkled with many species of wild flowers. While I had been in Puerto Natales the others had shifted Base to a more convenient spot at the edge of a beech forest below the boulder slope leading up to the glacier at the foot of the Three Towers. This was an ideal site, protected from the prevailing winds, with a little stream running beside it. We had a magnificent view of the upper sections of the East Face from just out-side Base Camp, although it was 40 minutes' walking to the viewing site on the moraine ridge from where we could see the whole of the East Face as well as the glacier leading up to it.
The following day the five climbers set off with loads of food and equipment to establish an advanced camp on the glacier at the foot of the Face. We knew that the best route to follow was a narrow valley formed by the side of the Paine Chico on the left and a moraine ridge on the right. At the head of this valley there was a steep snowfield and after kicking steps up this we could traverse over the moraine ridge onto the glacier on the other side.
On the glacier the crevasses barring our way forced us to detour or jump. Many of them only became known when the leader's ice-axe suddenly went through a snowbridge, so we were thankful for our ropes. It took about an hour to cross the glacier to a point some ten minutes' walk from the snowfield at the foot of the Face, where we decided to pitch our Whillans Box. Here a thick covering of snow allowed a good hole to be dug for the Box, so that it could better withstand the fierce winds which periodically raked the surface of the glacier.
Late that afternoon the advanced camp was established and then Mike, Art and I hurried back down to Base, leaving Roger and Mervyn ensconced in the little Box below the huge rock face. They were to make a start up the face the next morning and continue for three days until the following pair took over.
Back at Base Camp we discovered that Richard and Heather Smithers had arrived. They had brought the missing overseas order with them, which solved our remaining equipment problems. Those of us who had had to make do with various substitutes for some of their clothing, such as anoraks and climbing breeches, could now change over to the specialized heavy-duty waterproof' anoraks and thick woollen breeches which we needed for climbing under the conditions we were to experience on the East Face. They had also brought six pairs of jumar prusikers, which were essential items of equipment for the siege tactics we were planning to employ on the Face, as well as the two haul sacks they had made.
For the next two days, while Roger and Mervyn were tackling the snowfields and rock slabs at the foot of the face, Base Camp was a hive of activity. After having wasted so much time at the beginning, Fanie and André were keen to do as much filming as possible, as André was due to fly back from Rio Gallegos on Christmas Day. We also had to carry more loads up to Base from the dump camp on the knoll as well as from the estancia, and Richard walked back to the bridge over the Rio Paine to fetch the rest of the luggage that he and Heather were not able to carry on their first walk up to Base.
On the first climbing day Roger and Mervyn made good progress, Roger first leading a hard pitch through the seracs at the foot of the snowfields and then continuing diagonally up to the right for three long pitches to where the rock starts. This brought them to a point quite far across to the right of the face, and they were planning to climb straight up from there to the base of a diagonal ramp leading back to the left across the steep rock slabs to some ledges at the base of a shattered pillar about 300 m up the face. On their last pitch up the snowfields they were not far from the path of the avalanches and rockfalls which were continually coming down from the very steep, rotten gully leading up to the col between the Central and the North Tower, and while Mervyn was following Roger up it a huge rock ricocheted across towards them from above, missing Roger by a mere six metres. This gave them both a bad fright, but fortunately this was the only section threatened by rockfall. From the top of the snowfields Mervyn led a short mechanical pitch up the rock above, and then they both abseiled down the fixed ropes to the Whillans Box.
That night the weather closed in and great drifts of snow were blown against the box, burying it further in the snow and collapsing the sides, thereby reducing the volume inside considerably. At one stage during the night the wind blew so hard that, in spite of being buried in the snow, the Box was actually lifted up, and were it not for the guys securing it, it would have gone tumbling down the glacier with Roger and Mervyn inside. The next morning it was still snowing furiously, making it impossible for them to climb, so they decided instead to dig a snow cave in the snowfield below the face.
They spent the whole day digging, taking it in turns to dig and to clear the snow out of the entrance, and by that evening they had dug a three-metre tunnel straight into the side of the mountain with another tunnel leading off at right angles at the end, which they had started to widen out into a sleeping and cooking chamber.
The following morning the weather was still bad, but later it cleared up a little, so they climbed up the fixed ropes although it was still snowing. From their previous high-point Roger led a very hard mechanical pitch, making liberal use of rurps and micro-pegs, while Mervyn belayed him from, his tiny stance below, getting colder and colder as the hours slipped by and it did not stop snowing. In the meantime Richard and I had come up from. base camp with Mike and Art, who were taking over from Roger and Mervyn for the next three days. While Mike and Richard sorted out the Box and built up a snow wall above it to prevent it from being buried further under the snow, Art and I continued the work on the snow cave, so that by that evening it was almost ready for habitation. Then, while Mike and Art settled in for the night, Richard and I descended to Base, to be followed a few hours later by Roger and Mervyn, who were looking forward to a well-deserved rest.
The bad weather which had moved in during Roger and Mervyn's spell in front set in thoroughly the following day, confining Art and Mike to the Box and the snow cave. They spent the time extending the cave and then moved everything across into it. On the second day they managed to get up the ropes, but when they arrived at Roger's high-point they discovered that they had left their piton hammers down below. The weather was rapidly deteriorating again, so they abseiled back down the ropes to the security of the snow cave.
On Mike and Art's third day Richard and I walked up to the snow cave together with Fanie and André, but by the time we reached the glacier the wind was so strong that we could hardly keep on our feet. Then, as we stepped onto the glacier, a chilly blast whipped us off our feet and sent us slithering across the surface of the ice. I then realized that to continue under those conditions with André, who was wearing crampons for the first time, would be foolish, so I suggested that he and Fanie return to base. Richard and I then continued up alone, struggling against the wind, which on several occasions bowled us over and which only subsided near the snow cave, as we came into the lee of the Three Towers.
Mike and Art had managed to get up the ropes that day, but because of the poor weather they only managed to abseil down from Roger's high-point to the start of the diagonal ramp, where they left all the climbing gear in a haul sack and then descended to the snow cave. Richard and I reached the snow cave just as they were starting off down the ropes. While they were quenching their thirst and preparing to continue down to Base Mike told how some snow which had been plastered on the rock above had suddenly avalanched on him while he was on the stance at the start of the ramp, stunning him slightly and ripping his camera from his shoulder to send it flying downwards. Fortunately it missed hitting any rock on the way down and it seemed relatively undamaged when he eventually found it in the bergschrund at the foot of the Face.
Compared to the Whillans Box the snow cave was luxurious. There was now adequate sleeping and cooking space for two people inside, with storage space for rucksacks at the other side of the entrance tunnel. Thin closed-cell foam mattresses spread over the sleeping area insulated us from the cold as we snuggled down in our sleeping bags, and as the snow tunnel tended to absorb all sounds we seemed completely cut off from the elements outside. Surprisingly we did not have any condensation problems, as the moisture from our breathing froze immediately as it touched the domed roof, glazing it with a thin layer of ice, and the steam from our cooking simply blew out of the entrance tunnel.
The next day dawned beautifully. We waited a little for the sun to melt the ice off the fixed ropes and then prusiked up to the start of the ramp. There was a lot of snow about from the bad weather of the previous few days, and to start off I had to traverse across a steep patch of snow which seemed just to be stuck to the rock face and likely to avalanche off any moment. The first pitch up the ramp gave relatively straightforward climbing although the snow on all the ledges slowed up my progress and I had to stop every now and then to thaw out my frozen fingers. I led out a full rope length and then fixed one for Richard to prusik up while I pulled up the haul sack on the other. This technique of climbing sped up the progress considerably.
The next pitch was a lot steeper and Richard had to do a few mechanical moves followed by some delicate climbing of 'F2' standard before he reached easier ground, which he followed until the rope ran out. I then prusiked up to him and continued up a short easy pitch to the ledges at the base of the shattered pillar. These ledges marked the end of the rock slabs, and above us the Tower rose almost vertically.
From our attempt two years previously we knew that the best way from here was up to the top of the 100 m high shattered pillar and then back to the left to a series of cracks and grooves leading up to the huge system of' dihedrals that cut straight up the East Face. These dihedrals were the key of our proposed route, and if we could get into them they should lead us up the next 700 m or so to the final 200-m summit cone. One of the biggest problems that we envisaged at this stage was how to get from. the lower right-hand dihedral into the base of the large central dihedral.
At this stage this problem was still far above us, so I concentrated my efforts on leading the first pitch up the shattered pillar. I had led this same pitch on our previous attempt and was thus prepared for the difficulties that lay ahead, which consisted of a long section of delicate free climbing up to 'F3' standard, followed by some mechanical climbing on dubious pegs and finally onto a small ledge where I made an uncomfortable stance. By now it was getting late, so I abseiled down the pitch again, removing the pegs en route. We had to straighten out the line of fixed ropes on the descent to make prusiking easier, so Richard went down first, untied the rope from the piton at the start of our first pitch at the base of the diagonal ramp and let it swing across to the centre of the face. I then abseiled straight down, securing the rope to a piton every 50 m or so, while Richard continued down using the double climbing rope.
We eventually arrived back at the snow cave after midnight, with the result that we had a late start the following morning. It was another lovely day, and Richard and I were in shirt-sleeves as we prusiked up the ropes to resume the climbing. Fanie and Andr6 were on the glacier, having come up the previous day and spent the night in the Whillans Box, and were filming our progress from down below, using a powerful telescopic lens.
Richard led the next pitch, which consisted of some steep 'F2' grade free climbing up the edge of the shattered pillar, and made a stance near the top of it. Above this point the wall stretched up smooth and featureless and it was clear that we would not be able to make much progress in that direction. The only alternative was a crack system, across to our left, which seemed to lead diagonally left towards the base of the lower dihedral, but between us and the crack system, was a blank section of about 10 m. The only way we could see to get across was by means of a pendulum or ‘king' swing so after getting a piton in as far across to the left as possible, I clipped one of the climbing ropes into it and lowered myself down the rockface, while Richard gave me tension from the stance. Then I ran backwards and forwards across the vertical face until I developed sufficient swing to get me across to the crack system. On my first attempt I did not get a good enough hold in the crack with the result that I popped out of it again like a cork from a bottle and went careering back across the face. The next time I managed to stay in the crack, and after a few tense moments while I desperately sorted through my selection of nuts I found one that fitted and gratefully clipped myself into it. All this took some time, and by the time I reached a stance it was getting late, so we hurried back down again to our snug little snow cave.