Citation Needed - The Mawson Expedition

Episode Date: November 17, 2021

The Australasian Antarctic Expedition was a 1911–1914 expedition headed by Douglas Mawson that explored the largely uncharted Antarctic coast due south of Australia. Mawson had been inspired to lead his own venture by his experiences on Ernest Shackleton's Nimrod expedition in 1907–1909. During its time in Antarctica, the expedition's sledging parties covered around 4,180 kilometres (2,600 mi) of unexplored territory, while its ship, SY Aurora, navigated 2,900 kilometres (1,800 mi) of unmapped coastline. Scientific activities included meteorological measurements, magnetic observations, an expansive oceanographic program, and the collection of many biological and geological samples, including the discovery of the first meteorite found in Antarctica. The expedition was the first to establish and maintain wireless contact between Antarctica and Australia. Another planned innovation – the use of an aircraft – was thwarted by an accident before the expedition sailed. The plane's fuselage was adapted to form a motorised sledge or "air-tractor", but it proved to be of very limited use. Our theme song was written and performed by Anna Bosnick. If you’d like to support the show on a per episode basis, you can find our Patreon page here.  Be sure to check our website for more details.

I don't know man. I think I think if you start carrying a gum jibbar, that's like murder I didn't ask if it was murder. I asked if you had a guy. Oh, yeah, I definitely have a guy. Okay. Yeah What oh gentlemen? Mush! Oh right. Okay, recording day. Yeah, right. So Tom and Eli out by what is with all the snow gear? We are going on an expedition. Don't talk like that. Yeah. So you know how this week's episode is about the Mossin expedition.

I do, yes. So we were thinking why just talk about it when you can, you know, do it. Do it exactly. Yes, it will be death defying epic. And we might not all come back alive. Guys, guys, guys, I appreciate the commitment, but we're not going to explore the great white anything from the studio. Plus we have like jobs and stuff like you and Tom have jobs. I can do this. I mean, okay, that's fair. But like it's cold up there and they're absolutely

zero snacks. Wait, wait, wait, wait. No snacks at all. Zero, buddy. No snacks at all. All right, Bosic Plan B. Yeah, we have no choice. What's Plan B? We're gonna tell our wives what we think of their friends. Oh, gee, I would stick with the snow thing.

Definitely stay with the snow thing. Hello and welcome to Citation Needed. The podcast where we choose a subject, read a single article about it on Wikipedia and pretend we're experts. Because this is the internet, and that's how it works now. I'm Eli Bosnick and I'll be leading this band of brothers, but first, I'll need some fast benders to help me along. What?

Michael Fastbender was in Bander Brothers. First up, the result of my life. I promise promise it gets funny or the other guy's talking. It's funny. If it's your first episode, just hold on with me. The grizzled sergeant with a heart of gold and the golden sergeant with a heart of gristle. See something. Okay. Maybe true, but there's literally no way, Tom and I are the same rank. Okay. There's no. Okay. All right. Still better than Commander in chief are the same rank. Okay, there's no. All right. Still better than Commander and Chief with the golden shout. That is true. That is true. And also joining us tonight.

A man whose nickname on the front line would have been problematic on multiple levels. No illusions. So at first I thought you learned about my childhood nickname. No will be fine. The ice here is really thick, but now I realize I'm a Kermit. I don't. Before you get it, I'd like to take a moment to thank our patrons. Patrons truly, there is no expedition as foolhardy or dangerous as having a baby while making your living based on strangers who pay you for the free thing you give away.

That is true. Thank you for not serving me my just desserts. And if you'd like to learn how to join their ranks, be sure to stick around till the end of the show. And with that out of the way, tell us Noah what person, place, thing, concept, phenomenon or event. What will we be talking about today? Well, today we're going to be talking about the Mossen expedition.

And Tom, you sat in a chair of fine mahogany and leather. Well, thinking about this topic, I did. Are you ready to take a of fine mahogany and leatherhole thinking about this topic. I did. Are you ready to take a long poll from your pipe and rake the list with a tail? I am foolishly tragically optimistic about the success of the episode. Hey, hey, hey, all right. So top. Yes, was the Mosson expedition. Well, to understand the Mosson Expedition, you have to understand a little bit about where it came from, or better yet when it came from.

The Age of Exploration that marked the early 1900s is a period of time and a cohort of men that never ceases to fascinate me. There's something so incredibly human about the need to explore, to map, and to claim uncharted territory that frankly thrills me. The need in some men, not just a wonder, but to explore, to map, and to claim uncharted territory that frankly thrills me. The need in some men, not just a wonder, but to know, and to satisfy the need to know with the actions of their bodies as much as their minds, leaves me in awe.

It really does. And I am just as much moved by the incredible folly and hubris that motivates this urge, as I am by the optimism and pluck which accompanies it. There is something uniquely jaw-dropping to me as well about the explorers of the vast frozen wastelands of the Arctic and Antarctic. These massive tracks of unforgiving snow, ice, and sea are so inhospitable that it stretches my mind nearly to the breaking point to consider what a man must be made of both for good and ill to set off on foot across these stretches of icy hell to satisfy a drive to know and

a conquer and no expedition. And I have read about quite captures the contrasting motives that motivates men as much as the austral Asian and Arctic expedition. Hey, Tom. Yeah. I just, I want to point out how many fewer words I want to fuck Edmund Hillary has in it than that. I'm just saying he's the poet.

He's the poet. He's the few words. I'm just, I'm pointing out if you're in a hurry. Not for nothing, Tom, but we have mapped out less than 10% of the ocean. So, you know, hop in a submarine. You get to hang out with James Cameron. I'm just it, buddy. I would rather trek across that ice, Eli. I would rather trek across that ice.

We have coats now. We could do it. It's a further understand this expedition. You have to know who let it ill-fated as it may have been. It's leader Douglas Mossin was no stranger to the dangers and travails of Antarctic exploration. Before he set sail on this particular voyage Douglas Mossin was no stranger to the dangers and travails of Antarctic exploration. Before he set sail on this particular voyage, Mossin had already cut his teeth accompanying no less than Ernest Shackleton on the Nimrod expedition just a few years earlier. Mossin had already covered over 2,000 miles of frozen Antarctic waste on sludges. He'd achieved great success in his scientific activities,

including taking magnetic observations, oceanographic measurements, and meteorological measurements, and was at only 30 years old widely regarded as one of the greatest geologists of his generation. So, a quick word about those meteorological elements. I'm going to return again and again in this story to the utter brutality of the elements because the conditions in Antarctica are so severe. They are in many ways their own character in this story, but I want to quote a little here from the article I found on the Smithsonian about this expedition to give some flavor of how cold things get as absolutely cherry jirard with the doomed Scott expedition, which I'm also absolutely doing an episode

on noted about his own teeth in the weather. Quote, the nerves of which had been killed and split to pieces by temperatures which regularly fell as low as 77 degrees below Fahrenheit. That's before winter. Hey, guys, old time you guys, if it's so cold outside that your teeth explode, maybe you just wait a couple hundred years for some snowmobile. I know you didn't mean to imply that we'll get around to inventing those in 21 13, but that is what you were on the verge of that technology. Are they heated? Can I have snacks? Are they self-driving? And there was always wind in Antarctica. In fact, on the coast of Commonwealth Bay, where our story will begin,

the average wind speed, not gusts, the average wind speed is 50 miles an hour. Jesus Christ. It's crazy. There's a picture of a guy leaning forward at about a 25 or 30 degree angle, just trying to walk. It looks insane because the wind is so nuts. Gus were recorded to top off at 200. What? For a sense of scale, a hurricane becomes a category five when winds reach 157 miles per hour or greater. So imagine them, these winds with an air temperature dozens of degrees below zero, just pelting snow and ice in near constant blizzard conditions with the force of a sandblast. Guys, guys, Jim, let's just wear wing suits. Jump once we cross the entire anarchy. We can use a balloon. It'll go great.

So once more, a touch of context to continue to set the scene, this story will take place in 1913. So there are not synthetic moisture wicking fibers. There's no ultra light super polymer insulating technical winter gear. Hey, there weren't even densely packed high calorie foods like we have today. The explorers of the early 20th century would endure the harshest possible conditions on the planet, wearing wool clothes, which absorbed the snow, sweat and moisture, lost its insulating properties while also becoming heavier and stiffer. Their high density fuel of choice to eat was Pemakin. Pemakin is a mix of rendered tallow, dried meat and some berries described as having a

foul and greasy taste and texture. Okay. Again, it just seems like you wait till you have the stuff to do that. We didn't try to go to space before we had spacesuits. This is hard. You need to think, actually, Eli, there were several orbidolias doing a Tom as a this week. Means we're talking about cold dudes. You can do boring space next week. You brought up space brought up space which isn't at all boring it's super interesting and also cold.

Yeah. Yes. Thank you. We found you and I. This is our synergy point. This is our what it will link in a trusskin in here. We can get a cold guy at an angle. We've got a boy that said his podcast said a cold guy at an angle who doesn've got a cold guy at an angle who doesn't like

the book. He hasn't read and we're telling a giant lie. That's telling a giant lie. We make up the guy. We found it everyone. So it was with this equipment and into these conditions, the Douglas Moss and with split would split his expedition into four teams, nominating himself to lead what he called the far Eastern Shore Party. This was to be a team of three men whose goal was to survey several glaciers hundreds of miles from their ship and base camp. This was by far the most dangerous of the four missions within the larger expedition. The goal of reaching the glaciers they meant to survey was impeded by a formidable landscape scarred with deep crevasses hidden by unstable

roofs of deceptive white snow. Right. Each of which had its own fire lizard, stay home. You can't do it. You can't. It would do it. It would obviously be an ice lizard. He like, he's doing cold stuff this week. So Mossin shows his companions, Lieutenant Bill Grave Ninnis as the dog handler for the expedition. And Ninnis is close friend Xavier Mertz, who was described this way in this Smithsonian article on this madness quote, Xavier was a 28 year old Swiss lawyer whose chief qualifications for the trek were his idiosyncratic English. A source of great amusement to the other two.

His constant high spirits and his standing as a champion cross country skier. I know my teeth shattered themselves apart and half the expedition shot in a space like Mary Poppins after that two-hour mile. But Mertz is trying to say squirrel and it's really worth the trip. That's worth the trip. Because their party had the furthest to go, that meant they also had to carry the heaviest weight and greatest quantity of supplies and provisions. The men chose 16 huskies and three slages and loaded the sleds

with 1720 pounds of food, survival gear, and sciencey stuff. To keep weight as low as possible, each man was only allowed a very small number of personal items. Mosson brought a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories, his diary, and a photo of his fiance. That diary would become an essential record of the voyage. Really? He, I'm sorry, the Sherlock Holmes stories are kind of sticking with me. He'd like to get bored and need some light reading as the wind tore the skin from his tongue. Why would, look, he lay all four of us would panic at the thought of taking a shit without our phones. I feel like we could bring it to his dude, his one distraction in the infinite expanse of

ivory, not tearing my flesh. I actually know what I take that back. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. The first leg of the journey went pretty well. The men made better than expected time after leaving Commonwealth Bay and they covered 300

miles and just over a month. As the men moved deeper into the Antarctic, they were eating their way through their supplies, which made their sleds lighter and allowed them to pick up their pace even further. Everything was going exactly as meticulously planned. But since this is citation needed, this will be the last positive report about this journey that you will hear from. All right. Well, it looks like this is shaping up will be the last positive report about this journey that you will hear from. All right, well, it looks like this is shaping up to be the company road trip all over again. So will I get a toothbrush to scrub the salsa

out of the car seats? We'll take a break for a little apropos of nothing. You don't even have any chips. I don't. I said I was sorry. I apologize for this already. I've already apologized. Hey podcast listener, do you enjoy when we say mean things? Would you like to hear us say mean things about the person of your choosing?

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like us to roast in an email to vulgarity for charity at gmail.com. That's F-O-R not the number four. Now, we're going to be choosing 100 random roasts to do on the air, but if you've got the cash to spare, we're also going to be roasting the dechoises of our top 100 donors as well. Our goal this year is to break $300,000 and we're already got a great start with $100,000 match. And if we do beat that goal, Cecil will watch me eat an entire popsicle on a live stream without looking away.

I did not agree to do that. Well, now I've said it on air. So it's true. Well, no, but once again, head over to modestneeds.org. Do some good and you'll watch Cecil watch me eat an entire popsicle But mostly you'll help people who really need to do it for whatever reason they want no No, I guess that's true. Really know you too. You're gonna buy it's for charity Such a big popsicle. Okay, so let's look at these

are resumes to see who we want to bring on a big and ductic adventure. All right, so that's when here looks promising. There's a huge list of places he's visited with limited supplies stranded in the Arctic for a few months. Uh, good ice climber. Oh, that's fine. Fine, man, but I mean, Merz is kind of hilarious, right?

Merz. I mean, he's fine. I guess he doesn't have a lot of experience. Uh, counterpoints. Have you heard Merz say squirrel? No. Hey, that Merz. Merz, get in there. Mer Merts say squirrel. No. Hey, that hurts. Merts get it. Merts say squirrel. Squirrel. Haha, that is worth the dick at my friend. I, I mean,

took it. It's pretty funny that he thinks that's, but like maybe we need somebody that can help us out if we get into a dire situation. Okay, you're telling me that Mertz saying squirrel isn't going to make any situation better. Mertz? Huh? Squeerl. Squeerl. Squeerl. I don't know, man.

Mertz. Squeerl. Squeerl. Squeerl. No, it's pretty amazing, but like, what about this guy? He has years of experience cooking dogs. No, no, no, no's pretty amazing, but like, what about this guy? He has years of experience cooking dogs. Lalalala. Don't get me wrong.

That's pretty great. But if we're in that much trouble, right, you know it'll be better than just a tasty dog. Is it Mert saying squirrel? Squirrel. Exactly. He can say other words besides squirrel, right? I don't know.

I don't know that. Squeeval? Classic. And we're back. When we left off Tom Saturn, a windswept duck whispering a song to Men of Feller. Who are about to fucking freeze the death. What happens next?

Well, some of them freeze. Yeah, right. Yeah, I told you. Hey, jump in the end. The lucky ones. Well, Mossett's team started to become troubled by of all things, a nightmare, a bird, and a dog eat dog moment. Mossett noted in his diary that he had an unsettling dream about his father, who coincidentally

died a few days prior to the date of the dream noted in Mossett's diary. The dream itself, yeah, right. The dream left Mossett feeling someone on set. People die. Oh, in the 1910, and the 1910, that's so good. Nonetheless, the dream left Moss and feeling on set. But all three men were well and truly shook when they discovered one of their dogs eating

the pups that she had just delivered. Oh, yes. This is not actually entirely abnormal behavior given the circumstances. The dogs were themselves struggling in extreme conditions with far fewer calories and required, but the members still weirded out nonetheless. No, I get it. And I mean, imagine someone killing their kids without a podcast to listen to about it. Like, excuse me, he be jeez, just thinking about it. Like, he's just thinking about it.

The final Harbinger, Moss and Notos, when an errant petrol, hundreds of miles from sea, came soaring out of the blizzardy hellscape to crash into the slide of one of the sludges. These incidents, Moss and wrote quote, might have suggested to a superstitious man that something was a miss. Aaron Patrell is the name of my C. Shanti singing group. That's. Well, Dave Patrell is my transphobic stand-up avian for so much. Wait, I'm going to be my opener. Yeah.

No, wait, so is it me or does that diary protest too much? Right. Like, here are several opens that I don't find that all significant, but chose to write down through frostbitten fingers. Sure is a good thing. I'm a scant of them. And some big scanty cat would be. The men wouldn't need to wait long for these omens to come true. The crew began to run into terrible trouble as they moved deeper inland and began across the treacherous crevasses hidden beneath the snow. Nine us nearly plunged not once, not twice, but three times into deep chasms hidden by unstable snow.

Hey, guys, maybe I don't go in front for a little while. Oh, meanwhile, the cold and the wind had split Mossin's lips so deeply that great bolts of pain shot across the left side of his face almost constantly. Ninnis also began to suffer from snow blindness. Snow blindness is actually a painful condition caused by a burning of the retina of the eye. He also got a deep abscess on the tip of one of his fingers. The pain from the abscess became so severe that Mossin was eventually forced to lance it with a pocket knife without any pain relief or anesthetic, although it seems fair to say that they had plenty of ice on it. I imagine that lancing an abscess with nobody to watch it on TikTok Eli. Stop it.

No, you're going to give me nightmares. And December 13, 1912, the three men made camp on a glacier and took stock of their supplies. Having used up a great deal of them, they abandoned one of their three sleds and loaded everything remained onto two. When the men bedded down for the night, they were disturbed by deep booms and crackles thundering from underneath them, only Xavier knew what the sounds were, and he was terrified. The deep thunder rumbling from under the ice was the result of unstable ice beneath their feet. The snow masses must have been collapsing

their arches. The sound was like the distant thunder of cannon, unquote. The ground beneath them was shifting and changing, making an impossibly dangerous journey vastly more perilous. Just wait till they have to jump over the fireballs and kill a giant turtle. Yeah. Right. You think the ice levels are bad? Okay, so wait, but, but what, what are the other guys think? What? He out to do some ice nymph to in the 1812 over chair. Like I mean, the only thing for hundreds of miles in every direction is ice.

It's going to be the ice then, right? I know. Also, there's only three guys is Xavier just keeping this to him. So the next day was Antarctica warm, a ball, me 11 below zero. This warm spell was not good news. The relatively warm air further unsettled the frozen ground that they were traveling. After traveling for a time, Moss and Paused is sled to take a siding of the sun for navigation. And as he stood on the runners of his sled, Moss and took notice of Merts, who, unburdened by driving a sledge, had gone ahead of Ninnis

and Mosson to scout the terrain forward. Mertz had stopped his usual singing. It was instead standing quiet and still with one ski pole raised in the air. This was their signal that they had encountered the precipice of one of the many Kravassas criss-crossing their way through the landscape. Mosson looked back to Ninnis, who was traveling with their other sledge to warn him of the danger ahead. I shouldn't have.

We're at the edge of a giant Krovas signal, not be a silent thing. Right. I could have just look at the whole of the air. That's great. But why not a company that was like, watch the fuck out, guys, we're at the edge of a Krovas. But Merch was now looking back at Mossin in horror. Ninus, his sledge and his dogs had vanished from sight.

Xavier and Mossin hustled a quarter mile back to the last Kervos they had crossed, fearing the worst. We're just moments before both Xavier and Mossin had traveled without incident. There was now a void, 11 feet across and impossibly deep. Mossin crawled on his belly to the edge of this new yawning nothingness and looked below. Far down, Moss and dimly made out a ledge with two dogs laying on it. One clearly dead, the other very nearly so. Beyond the ledge, there was what appeared to be nothing more than an endless icy darkness. Squee-ro? Not now, Mertz. Not now.

That is super funny. That is super funny, but not now. Using a nod in fishing line, Mossin sounded the depths to the ledge and found it measured 150 feet from the ground Ninnis had last stood. Ninnis himself, unseen, must have fallen even further on his plunge into the depths of Antarg Jesus. Mossin feuded called Ninnis' name over and over for two hours, hoping against all

lads to hear a return call, but no sound returned his desperate entreaties. Ninnis was gone, and with him, one of only two sludges of the men's supplies. I'm sorry, two hours? So he was like, Ninnis, you okay, buddy? You you survive 150 foot straight down. Better to do this for another hour to just to be silly. Nannis. So things were not looking good for the surviving pair. And we're looking good for the non-surviving dude either, but yeah. The supplies, when they had been split into two sleds from a three, they were not evenly distributed.

Ninnis' sled contains most of their food and their tent. What? Well, these sleds have, well, that one I get right that's not going to be like, okay, let's put half the time. Yeah, that's the other one. See, so you take two tents, you have a backup. I guess that's fair to you. When you're in the Antarctic, I think that you could do that. Without these supplies, Moss and a Merz head only sleeping bags to protect the men from the terrible cold. That's going to be fine. And food to last around 10 days. Yeah, I mean, fine. Yeah. Without these supplies, Moss and Emirates had only sleeping bags to protect the men from the terrible cold.

That's going to be fine. And food to last around 10 days. Yeah, I mean, fine. Yeah. It is diary. Moss and wrote quote, practically all the food had gone, spade, pick, tent. We considered an impossibility to get through to winter quarters by eating dogs. So nine hours after the accident started back, but terribly handicapped.

May God help us. Oh, no. Okay. God helped you by making it tooth explodingly cold. You've stood in the fuck away. Look at the ask him to lend the hand now. All right. The pair made their way as quickly as possible back to where they had abandoned the empty

third sled the day before. From the sled, Mossam was forced to use his pocket knife to transform the sled runners into rudimentary tent poles, which they would combine with some errant canvas to create shelter. The men now faced two choices. Since they hadn't left any food depots on their trek inland, every moment spent was dire. They could try to head for the sea, where there was a possibility to kill seals for food or retrace their steps. While the sea held the tantalizing likelihood of reasonably plentiful food, the route was longer and rescue even more uncertain.

Mossin shows the path most recently followed. Okay, you say every minute that they lost was precious, but like at least a hundred and thirteen of the hundred and twenty they spent yelling for ninnis was like apparently expendable Impressions what if he had yelled back what would be the plan? Yeah Yeah, we're gonna put your dead dog down your way I'm gonna go turn the other sled into a ladder. I'll be right back. I'm going to get a widow in here. I'm going to widow an escalator. It's a lot of work. With the speed of existential terror, pushing them, the men traveled relatively quickly for

the first few days, but soon the elements began to take a terrible toll. Mossin went snow blind, staggering forward in the intense cold in unrelenting agony. Merch tried to help his companion with a solution of zinc sulfate and cocaine, but you are a deal forced the man to slow their pace across the ice. Hey, Mossin, if you pulled your face out of the bag of cocaine, maybe you'd stop seeing white. Yeah, Mossin's journal during this period was just filled with a bunch of stupid business ideas. It's not super useful. In the expedition, Chuck E. Cheese for that's Dave and Buster's man. You're talking about Dave and Buster's. At this point, the weather turned up.

Well, yeah, it had been so helpful until now. The wind picked up even further whipping bitter snow and wild gales, battering the man and causing a total whiteout. The men couldn't see beyond the reach of their own arms in front of them, making navigation hopeless and progress impossibly slow. The dogs started to collapse and Moss and Emirates had to hook themselves to the sludges to pull them across the ice themselves. Weird that they chose to whip each other and yell, yeah, at this point, they did that. They did. How weird is it, that's really.

And the food situation was spectacularly upsetting. And so I do want to offer a bit of a warning here. The next bits are said and dogs dying. If that bothers you too much, you might want to fast forward a bit. Right. Yeah. And if you fast forward and you notice the dog missing, it's just they went to a farm upstate. They're far. They're not just fine. It turns out. At this point, the men were reduced to eating the dogs as they died. The meat was even less palatable than the pemican they had been relying upon. Mossin noted in his diary, quote, it was worth the while spending some time boiling the dogs meat thoroughly.

Thosatase, these soup was prepared as well as a supply of edible meat in which the muscular tissue and the gristle were reduced to the consistency of a jelly. The paws took longest of all to cook, but treated to a lengthy stewing, they became quite digestible. Yeah, that's good. Make sure you put down that the dogs are actually really tasty eventually. I mean, we want people to know it was yummers as part of the. Leave it to the vegan to be unable to distinguish between quite digestible and yummers, but

right? Dog meat from dogs that had themselves likely died at least in part from starvation, offer little to actually sustain the men and mertz began to break down. Squier. Again, in his diary, Moss and noted that Mertz quote is generally in very bad condition. Skin coming off legs, et cetera. And you know, shit has got really bad when it's no longer even worth noting individually. All the places that skin is fluffing off of your body. It's amazing.

And you go right to it. Yeah, it's that's so good. Merchants just that I'm taking arrest, much to Mossin's protest. And the two took a day off from slowly dying while trekking to spend 24 hours slowly dying and sleeping. Yeah. First of all, sleep was also probably dead. But at this point, Mossin seems sort of pissy about being forced to slow down while Mertz had a lay about. He wrote, quote, things are in a serious

state for both of us. If you cannot go eight or 10 miles in a day, in a day or two, we are doomed. I could pull through myself with the provisions at hand, but I cannot leave him. His heart seems to have gone. It is very hard for me to be within a hundred miles of the hut. And in such a position is awful." And quote, he just duct tape some dog feet to your lower legs. So he can get moving here. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.

Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome was no help. Merch did not wake, rested and recuperated. Instead, he had completely lost his shit all over the inside of his sleeping. Merch had become incontinent and delirious. Mosson had no choice but to spend hours cleaning the man and his sleeping bag and trying to get him warm. I mean, not no choice. I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have done it. But Mertz continued to deteriorate succumbing now to fits. The man got moving again, but Mertz continued to have fits and fell into a delirium. The man made camp quote, at 8 p.m. he raves and breaks a tent pole,

continues to rave for hours. I hold him down. He becomes more peaceful and I put him quietly in the bag. He dies peacefully at about 2 a.m. in the morning of the eighth death due to exposure bringing on a fever." That is what Mossin wrote, but what I think he meant to say was, became a pain in the ass, stunk up to 10 and broke the pole. I whittled myself with my bucket knife, smothered him to death and took a very nice nap. So, so Boston realized there was enough dog paw for one of them and not both of them and he said, I bet you wish you were the one keeping diary. Now, huh?

Squirrel boy, right? That's what really happened. Yeah, I think it is too. Squirrel for Squirrel. Look into your heart. Oh, God. Mossin was now alone. No dogs, no men, and a hundred miles of Antarctica between him and any hope of help.

His own body was beginning to crumble. Quote, the nose and lips break open. End quote. And just in case you wanted to know if this was also taking a toll on his man berries, they want to quote, getting a painfully raw condition due to reduced condition, dampness and friction and walking. And quote, you got to air them out. Yeah. Jesus. And when the balls start to go, your friends are dead, you're eating dog paw soup and your four marathons away from help. No, it seems pretty natural to contemplate giving up, which Mossin certainly did.

He was prevented from the temptation to lay down and nap his way into eternity by thoughts of returning to his fiance, who would be, I'm sure, please this punch to see his disfigured face and balls return to life. Honey, everybody's heard your story about what dog stays like, let the Smithus is talk about the vacation to permute. That's the answer. As desperate as he was to move on, the weather was so severe that Mossman was forced to remain in place with the body of his friend for several days starving while the wind howled outside

his thin and fragile makeshift tent. He spent his time in isolation using that same pocket knife I mentioned before to reduce the last remaining sled into a smaller half sled, since he now had much less to carry and couldn't afford the extra weight. With the break in the weather, Mossin began his lonely trudge with Rosebud toward a rescue he hoped he could find 100 miles distant. Totally ate some of his friend during those couple

days. Oh, totally. Yeah. Probably before he died. Yeah. Yeah. It's like that cheese that French cheese thing they do. It's like that. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Unfortunately, after only a few miles, Mossuson's feet began to give away. Each step became so painful, he was once more forced to stop and investigate what fresh betrayal his body would reveal to him. Upon taking off his boots and socks, the sole of his feet slid off. God, how's that? Leaving a mass of raw, weeping blister.

Nice. Moss and had no choice, but to slather the open wounds that were his feet with landling. And then place the skin back across the bottom of his feet. That's not how bodies were. The skin back got no choice. You keep saying no. It is diary that night. Moss and noted quote, my whole body is apparently rotting from

want of proper nourishment, frostbitten fingers, festering's mucus membrane of nose gone, saliva glands of mouth refusing duty, skin coming off the whole body. And quote, oh, he's turned turning into Steve Bannon gross. Okay, that would have happened at Motherfins. It's not so much that this journey sucks as it is that 60 years later, me in a fucking snow car could make this trip in three hours. Yeah. Just like the time I'm just, boo. Cheesy poop.

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't have to use my radio and have someone fly a helicopter here to help me. Now, here's a good time for a moment of some speculation. At this point, Mossin and previously Mertz were pretty much living on husky me. A good deal of speculation about what caused Mertz's sudden illness and the skin deterioration

of Mautsen suggests that Mautsen and Mertz were likely suffering from an overdose of vitamin A, called hyper-vitaminosis A, most likely caused by eating the livers of the dogs, the livers concentrate the vitamin A in dangerous amounts. The symptoms of hyper-vitaminosis A include drying and figuring of the skin, hair loss, nausea, and madness. All symptoms suffered by marts before dying and many of these symptoms felt by the unlucky mason. Had the men eaten everything but the livers, they may have spared themselves death and

untold misery. So I guess what, what Tom's trying to stop in the middle of the essay to say is there's a right and a wrong way to eat a dog. By now, Mossin could barely walk. He began dragging himself and his sled across the ice. Rather than covering his goal of eight to 10 miles in a day, he was reduced to a literal crawl dragging behind him is meager belongings. Still, he managed to cover five miles a day, an almost unimaginably difficult feat, but effectively doubling the time he

was hoping to make as bad as things were, they still managed to get somehow worse. Zombie dogs. That's what I got. It's a good guess. Even crawling, the constant threat of a Kervos opening and claiming Mossin as it did in his plate havoc on Mossin's thoughts. And for good reason on January 17th, his greatest fear was realized and Mossin tumbled into a fissure that split and opened beneath his weight. Incredibly, however, the gap was just a little more narrow than the half sled that Mossin was dragging behind him. Mossin plummeted 14 feet before coming to a sharp, painful stop when the rope that joined

him to his sledge held and the sledge just barely too big to slip down the hole arrested his fall. Mossin in terrible pain was now suspended above a plunge to certain death, while above him he felt, quote, the sledge creeping to the mouth. I had time to say to myself, so this is the end, expecting every moment the sledge to crash on my head and both of us to go to the bottom unseen below. Then I thought of the food left on eaten on the sledge and of providence again, giving me a chance. The chance looked very small as the rope had soared into the overhead lift.

My finger ends all damaged. Myself weak and quote, but on the bright side, I thought at least I don't need to solo my feet for this bet. This is a hell of a. Yeah, he's in a pretty bad state. That is until Patrick Swazies hand appears over the entity says, not today, you son of a bitch. I have a bad foot. There is no choice to save himself. Moss and had to relive every high school rope climb nightmare and climb

hand over hand 14 feet up the rope to the sledge and haul himself onto the lip of the relative safety of the precipice. He found himself suspended within over and over. He climbed and slipped falling and starting over several times. Jesus. Until until sensing his energy had run out, he managed to make one final push, heaving and crawling hands and fingers, slippery with his own blood. Quote, at last, I just did it.

He wrote, well, yeah, the fact that anybody read it kind of killed a suspense, bro, but sure, yeah, good for you. I could have found it as I was driving in my heat. I know you're right. That's true. Unlike labor. A book. He laid completely spent at the very edge of the curvasse unable to move for at least an hour before gathering enough strength. The hall is slid over the void erect his tent

and crawl inside his bag to sleep. That night, Mossin fashioned his rope tether into a rope ladder. So if he found himself falling again, he would have an easier time climbing out. The very next day, he fell again and the ladder he had made the night before certainly saved his life. Tomorrow I'm making that into a noose. Right. I'm not doing that. I'm not doing that. I'm stopping saying no choice at least. Yeah.

It's okay. It's a little reparative. Boston was exhausted now averaging only four miles a day. Before he was able to start out for the day's journey, he was forced to painfully dress and clean his many wounds, often finding himself spent an interrible agony before his march across the ice had even begun. Once more, he was penned in by a terrible blizzard, but he could scarcely afford another delay. He forced himself to march into the storm for eight miles before making camp for the day.

That sounds impressive, but some of the time the wind would have been at his back. So I'm not saying it's sheet, it's like cheating. The incredible effort proved worthwhile when Don broke. He was close enough to see the coastline of Commonwealth Bay, his starting point, though it was still 40 miles away. There was a supply dump, now only 30 miles away to place dubbed Aladdin's cave. He also spotted a low-carn, not far off his path. Upon exploring it, he discovered that it was a cache of food and a note left by others from the original

larger expedition who left it in the hope that any of the three men might somehow still be alive. Hey, guys. Hope your trip went great. Remind us to tell you about the night of too much mashed potatoes. Sometimes, see Americans for easier expedition. I love it. I love that they don't put this like 30 miles out, which means they're like, go out and look for them. And if you don't find them, we'll leave them.

They get 30 miles away. And they're like, I don't see anything, do you? You know, we could barely even see our own camp from here. So, man. I called for them for three hours. That's enough. The food cash and being within sight of his goal gave Moss and a much needed boost.

And although it took him until February 1st, he reached the entrance to the Aladdin's cave. Tucked away among the supplies were three oranges and a pineapple. Mosson broke down in tears at their site, overwhelmed at seeing something which was not white for the first time in so many months. No, I get it. I have the same feeling after I go to a podcast convention. Oh, there is something not white. Oh, there it is.

The elements were not quite done with him. No, Mauson now tantalizingly close to rescue was again beset by a terrible storm, which raged and penned him down for five more days, moving as quickly as he was able Mauson forces way across the last 10 miles to reach the base of Commonwealth Bay just in time. No shit to literally see his expedition ship leaving for Australia. A small party have been left unsure in the hope that any or all of the men might return, but it was too late by a matter of hours to get on board the aurora. Mosson was forced to spend a second winter in Antarctica before he was fine. He was rescued.

Oh, all right. Well, Tom, if you had to summarize what you've learned in one sentence, what would it be? Baby, it's cold outside. I canceled. Are you ready for the quiz? Yes, I am. All right. Um, what's the best tundra cooked puppy prepolation? Oh, she's fucking. A lab rangoon Beef and Marley soup. See? That was sad. Savarin Tintin. Yes.

Pecanese Swasalad, or E. Baltomeal. Baltomeal is gone. It's good. For undisclosed reasons, I'm choosing lab rangoon. You are probably right. You are right. Drink your row, Bertine.

What is that? All right. So I hate having to go after Cicilon puns. What song did Mertz usually sing when he wasn't signaling danger? A, back that Krovasse up. That's great. That's so good. B, Tundra pressure.

Yeah. That's so good. See, even flow, but the flow is a FLO. Okay. Or D, Squirrel Squirrel Squirrels. That's great. Squirrel Squirrel. You got to say it.

You had to really. Exactly. Well, squirrel squirrel squirrels, that's, I mean, that was on the first cassette tape I ever bought. So that's not the answer. That is correct. That's not why, but that's right. You know, the only word he knew.

All right, Tom. Lawson's diary is both fully available for everyone listening to this podcast to read and in the public domain. So it's free. They just go get it right now. After all of that torturous effort and his entire life destroyed by the horrific experience, how many of our listeners are going to go read that diary? A, None. Zero.

See, well, I already listened to the pond can. Or indeed, should have stayed a comb, but I'm uncomfortable even answering that question since you're taking a cheap shot at our listeners and it's a hundred percent accurate. So I'm going to have a stain since you're taking a cheap shot at our listeners and it's a hundred percent accurate

So I'm gonna have a state. Anybody if you read that diary tweet at me, I will then will you ten dollars Ten dollars to read the whole diary Ten of three dollars No, he won't do that I'm behalf of Heath, I will announce announce myself as an ex-weakess. Thank you, man. Mine won't have any dead puppies in it.

I promise, guys. I promise that we'll have any puppy cannibalism at all next week. All right, well, for top Noah and Cecil, I'm Eli Bosnick. Thank you for hanging out with us today. We'll be back next week and by then Noah will be an expert on something else. Between now and then, you can listen to our shows or arrange a thorough verbal trouncing for your enemies at modestneeds.org. And if you'd like to help keep this show going, you can make a per episode donation at patreon.com

slash citation pod, or leave us a five star review everywhere you can. And if you'd like to get in touch with us, check out past episodes, connect with us on social media, or check the show notes, be sure to check out citationpod.com. And remember, if you don't need enough money, Cecil will watch me eat a lot of pasta. I will. Why do you? Hahaha.

Rose. Oh, Mertz. Mertz, you haven't long had a old friend. But I will continue for you. No, no, for us. Mertz, is there, is there anything you want me to tell your family? Square, real? Classic, so funny. Love it. All right, Bosic Plan B. Yeah, we have no choice. What's plan B? We're going to tell our wives what we think of their friends.

Oh, gee, I would stick with the snow. Definitely stay with the snow thing. Jesus Christ. Tom's like, hey, this is like, can I swap that line? I just want to put this on. like hey, this is like, can I swap that line? Just like, this is like a different line. This whole show is just one big long divorce procedure. That's it. Man, I can't afford another one.

Another podcast divorce procedure. Jesus Christ. But every time the percentage will be of a smaller balance sometimes, it gets less and less punitive. It's like a hero paradox. Yeah, it's less and less punitive as you go. Paradox. Yeah. Yeah. The same thing goes to more sex.