South Pole Expedition 2006


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Senan Molony

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Maybe someone from Monitor Hall should chop these latter bits off what is a serious Lusy thread to set up something new called "HMS Colleen etc"?

Because I feel we may be on the brink of some giddiness. And d*mmit, I just can't control my urges...

This is the South Pole Inn in Anascaul, Co Kerry.

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It is an extremely inaccessible and punishing place, with huge demands made on human endurance around the 11pm mark.

As you know, Ing, many famed international personages have threatened to conquer this unique and antique place. All their half-formed plans have thus far come to naught.

And yeti... it may still be possible.

The famed South Pole itself is indicated to the left. Amundsen, or some such intrepid, has discarded his bicycle nearby, and sure, why wouldn't he? Doesn't the man deserve some refreshment and jollity after such a demanding trek?

The bike stands like a permanently mocking laugh at Scott's choice of dogs in his failed bid to
reach this point.

Admittedly Scott was not helped by his team's arrival at another pub - short of the intended target - and the disastrous remark of Captain Oates: "I am just going inside. I may be some time."

Thereupon Scott was forced to follow his men inside, especially when the tongue-lolling thirsty canines decided to join the breakaway group.

"I'm just looking for a small huskie," said Scott to the barman. He was thereupon presented with a small whiskey, and the rest is tragic history.

Not a bad little Shack, is it? They like their Caird games in here... There is a good seal on the door (bark, bark!) to keep out the elements, and a roaring fire in the grate - no doubt with the latest incarnation of Mrs Chippy curled in front of it.

Many have gazed on the face of the South Pole, but few have pressed her ice-cold lagers to gasping lips...

By the way, do you know that one of the Crean great-grandchildren decided to throw off the stultifying family tradition and get out of the sled-race altogether?

He ran away and to become a dentist. They still tut-tut that anyone could be so irresponsible as to indulge a childhood fantasy of molar exploration.

Takes all sorts, I guess.

Molony's prediction: Expedition 2006 will never happen.

Why?

Because Yardley, Geyer, Hyder, Sheil and others just don't have it in them....
 

Senan Molony

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Thanks to Paul and his transfer of the thread we can truly say that South Pole Expedition 2006 has received its first setback before it has even been countenanced!

The latest I hear is that Bob 'Sleigh' Godfrey has been approached. I don't know what he is like as a drinker, but it is possible he could bring valuable experience to bear.

Inger Shiel has threatened this expedition before, and I foolishly ran up half a dozen expedition tee-shirts because I believed her.

I see no reason to believe that Expedition 2006 will fare any better. This is not like going to your average English pub. The beer in Ireland is not warm.

The South Pole Inn will push you to the very drink of exhaustion...

Putting on my stuffed shirt as a member of the National Guinno-draughtic Society, I say that we have yet to see anything like properly-thought-out plans for what would be a horrendously difficult undertaking.

You really have no idea what you are getting yourself gin for.

As it says in Tom Crean's famous Ballad of the South Pole Inn:

Many an Explorer has met his Nemesis
Questing that legendary licensed premises!


I'll believe in an expedition when I see it.
 

Bob Godfrey

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Beer not warm? There, you see what happens when we leave you to run your own affairs - the fundamentals of civilisation go out the window. And what's this about Scott not reaching his objective? A slander on a gallant gentleman! As is often the case with expeditions of this kind, he had no trouble getting there. It was finding his way home that was the problem. I know the feeling so well.

Sounds like an interesting challenge, but I'm not sure if I'm up to it. I've famously climbed the South face of Everest clad only in a tank top and shorts, trekked to the North Pole in a string vest, and even endured a whole winter in a bedsit in Clacton-on-Sea, but at least the beer was warm. I am in any case committed to a mountaineering challenge to reach the summit of Tan Hill (home of England's highest pub, famous for its warm beer) and a gathering of Claustrophics Anonymous at one of my locals, the Nutshell in Bury St Edmunds. This venue has a total area of 15' by 7'6", which includes the non-smoking section. Good pint of warm beer. Not licensed for dancing, but a sign outside proclaims: Coach Parties Welcome.
.
 

Senan Molony

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Gosh, whatever happened to the nascent Expedition plans? The HMS Colleen seems to have been crushed in the ice...

I would be delighted to help ferry any delegates from BTS 2006 at Beal Feirste ("Mouth of the Sandbank" = Beal Feirste = angl. Belfast) to this extraordinary point of global fascination.

Not everyone has made it to the South Pole.

Are you really going to attempt it, Ing?
 

Senan Molony

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Gosh, you are a good explorer, Bob!

I am seriously impressed.... I spent ages this morning wandering around the blizzards of postings, looking for the South Pole with nary a sighting.

And here you are, Amundsening me already!

Actually, the most appropriate thing is to put the South Pole stuff in Let's Meet, if I could trespass on the good offices of Monitor Hall once more...

I have set up a separate thread there, to which these posts could perhaps be transferred - leaving the poor old Colleen back in dry-dock in this folder where she belongs.
 

Senan Molony

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>>As is often the case with expeditions of this kind, he had no trouble getting there. It was finding his way home that was the problem. I know the feeling so well.<<

All gallant publark explorers leave the "getting back home" to look after itself. That is the heroic thing to do.

Geting back is a concept that belongs to another dimension when you are "in the zone."

But you are right: the fog of befuddlement can descend so quickly in those climes.

What tends to happen is what we call FSB phenomenon, or flurry, slurry, blurry.

First, there is a quick flurry of pints. You can find yourself being left behind by the more experienced drinkers. You try to catch up too quickly. A fatal mistake.

Slurry: You can't even communicate with the others. Your words make no sense. You might hear a sled dog howling somewhere, but disorientation is setting in.

Blurry: Your eyesight is going. You are banging into tables, other drinkers, spilling the precious life-giving fluid itself on the way back from the bar. If your companions are not lively to your condition, you could pass out completely.

So I would seriously wurry, I mean worry, if Inger were going about looking to pick up any old participants for what will be a gruelling ordeal.

I mean, consider the case of young Ben Holme. A lovely lad to be sure. Young and enthusiastic. But has he ever really - you know - had a proper old drink?

Would Shackleton have taken him?

These are questions that may seem cruel, but which have to be asked. The South Pole is no place for the fainthearted.

You are heading for the Tom Cream of Pints, the big floe itself, and it is not a task to be contemplated lightly, no matter how sunny it looks in the picture.

Here's another point frequently overlooekd by British warm-beer drinkers:

There are no fruit machines in Irish pubs.

So how are you going to keep scurvy at bay?

I would like to hear some answers from Inger on these basic points before anyone considers such a monumental undertaking.
 

Bob Godfrey

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What are those strange objects towards the right of the picture, which look like milk churns, but black. Guinness churns perhaps?

If anyone wants to check the weather before setting out, here's a link to a webcam at the bottom of the World. If the picture is black, try again when the sun is out in 6 months:

http://www.cmdl.noaa.gov/obop/spo/livecamera.html
 

Bob Godfrey

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Senan, if I'm to even consider coming on this expedition, I want your absolute assurance that this time you'll keep the sled dogs
off the Guinness.

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Bob Godfrey

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And for an account of alternative survival strategies employed by man and dog in the coldest of cold conditions, see the Jack London story To build a Fire. Quite short, easily found online by a Google search, and a good example of the stirring literature that Edwardians liked to read. Best enjoyed in the company of a warm beer, but it will have you shivering anyway.
 

Senan Molony

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This is the scale of the task that Inger Sheil so blithely proposes:

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You have to get from the BTS Convention 2006 at Belfast down to the South Pole, through "non-mainland" different jurisdiction terra incognita.

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This is it, the Dingle peninsula, although I don't know why I am bothering uploading these as it's well known that women in general can't read maps. (Whoops! controversial...)

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Finally, the general area where the South Pole, a geographical magnet for all cold beer loves, is believed to be.

All compass points lead here, to all-ecompassing pints.

Do not be distracted by the False Pole. Many a brave man (and woman) has fallen into a Carlsberg around there and never been seen again.

The South Pole - Probably the most hospitable place on earth...

Do you dare to dream a dream?
 

Inger Sheil

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quote:

As you know, Ing, many famed international personages have threatened to conquer this unique and antique place. All their half-formed plans have thus far come to naught.
Oi there, Tom Crean! My recollection of the event is that I showed up with second-in-command Jill "Wilson" Raines (Known as Aunt Jill for her kindly demenour as she sketched the effects of the beer halo around the Pole). We were ready and raring to go - it was your own fault that we made it no further than the foothills of the Hole in the Wall and the watering holes of the Great Temple Bar[rier].

However, I'm ready to try again or die in the attempt. 'I'm just going outside to chill the chardonnay, and I may be some time...'

No exhibition openings yet planned for April 2006, so I'll finally be able to fulfil the threats and get back there.

Senan has never had any faith in my spatial reasoning, Bob. He has told me this more than once. He will, however, concede that I can multitask (usually demonstrated by emptying both a cocktail and a Guinness).
quote:

The South Pole - Probably the most hospitable place on earth...

Do you dare to dream a dream?

Good God - this is an awfully good place.​
 

Senan Molony

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Oh, here she is at last! Trailing in at any old time... and still reckons she can make the South Pole before winter 2006 or the bar shuts.

Dear, earnest, Sheilkleton - such a brave campaigner.

The trouble is, Inger, you will need more than foolhardiness. You will need, ahem, expedition members.

Where are they? Hardly flocking here, by the evidence so far.

The business of attempting the South Pole Inn, let it be said again, is strictly for cases of the hard stuff.

And the Alcoholic is very different from the Articulate, remember.

In other words, many a person can spout stirring talk when the pints aren't down. But put them in the teeth of a howling pint-storm in the deep south of Ireland, and how are they going to fare?

Endurance, that's the key. That, allied to the most meticulous preparation.

For instance, nobody knows whether they have dry roasted peanuts at the South Pole, so you might have to pack some along with the pemmican.

You talk about cocktails... But what mixers have you got planned for the ice you will undoubtedly meet? - Coke, Sprite, some generic orange soda, what?

I have no doubt you will remember to bring the glacier mints, but what happens when you encounter your first hangover?

Are the gurly-gurls suddenly going to get their crampons?

I do not wish to be rude (said he insincerely), but you will understand that the National Guinno-draughtic Society takes a very dim view of empty talk. Fill 'em up has always been our philosophy.

So where are your members?
You mention Jill Raines, "known as Aunt Jill," but it's Aunt Arctica we're interested in.

Who, exactly, is supposed to be going on this Big Chill reunion?
 
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(God, doesn't Molony go on! Like the Ever Ready bunny. Somebody ought to take his batteries out...)

Can't promise you Aunt Arctica but I'll be there, wherever, whenever, just like yer old mate Shakira. South Pole Expedition 2006? I shall walk it there via the Healy Pass if I have to, just to stop you chuntering. If anyone's up for a hike down to the real South Pole, give us a shout, always wanted to do it, if anyone wants to Molony-on-down?

There you go then, Senan, Inger has her first Brit crew member signing on, if Bob hasn't already. Although, I would rather be travelling as a first class passenger, if you don't mind.
 

david wilson

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Senan,I couldn't help but notice that you marked base camp(belfast)with a very large orange blot on the landscape.Do I detect political undertones?If one was to look over the shoulder of a "warm beer drinking soldier"from across the water,you will find that belfast is in fact coloured in,green & orange & never the twain shall mix.
I believe snow white started it all.She wasn't happy with one,it had to be seven,gnomes that is.Gnomeo,gnomeo,wherefore art thou Gnomeo,gnome & away,the rolling gnomes,saving gnomo,the gnoman empire,gnoming in the gloaming,keep the gnome fires burning,give me a gnome among the gum trees,greg gnoman,gnome alone,gnomosexual,ad fin.I was never good at gnoman numerals,I wanna go gnome.One just for yourself molony!PO'G MO GNOME.I'll let yourself translate that for the sassanachs!!!
all the best.
dw.
 

Senan Molony

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>>God, doesn't Molony go on!<<

Plod, plod, plod... after plod, plod, plod...
And eventually you're there!

I am delighted you are coming Boz.

Dave, I don't know if they have gnomes or not, but you forgot the cold one - Nome, Alaska.

Meanwhile it is odd but TRUE that Tom Crean featured in a recent Guinness TV ad:

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Paste this into your browser:

www.guinness.com/row_en/ads/current/TomCrean/

Obviously they used an actor to play Tom Crean.

The real one went on, and on, and on, and eventually fell over in 1938.

Who else is coming, and what route is suggested?
 

Bob Godfrey

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Excitement builds as supply convoys bring emergency rations to the start point in Belfast. Harrods survival hampers for Sheil (left) and polar nutrition supplements for Molony (centre). Godfrey (right) has been informed that the warm beer convoy is delayed by a coal strike in Liverpool.

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