Black Friday and White Blizzards


Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000443_00063]April 1956.  

 Previously at Mawson Station. The field party returned from their first plateau expedition with the surveyor disappointed that visibility prevented him getting an astrofix from the top of the mountain. When he tried to develop the round of photographs he accidentally exposed the film. A ferocious blizzard blew in trapping two members of the party up on the plateau where they’d gone to change the records at the meterological remote station.They got back after a night of extreme discomfit but the blizzard picked up again for the rest of the week. Attempts to get the Auster plane up in the air came to nothing when it wouldn’t start, and then when it did, the engine kept dying in the air. Sunday rolled around and it was movie night.

 Sunday 8th April The weather conditions were so poor that night that it took two men to feed the dogs who were staked outside on a wire. Syd and Nils had to rope themselves together to get to them and then they spent a difficult half hour digging the poor animals out of the ice so they could eat. That night movie failed to impress the surveyor: “Anchors Aweigh” Frank Sinatra and Gene Kelly – its bloody amazing they wear trousers just like men.

A week of blizzard followed so the work around the station was mostly domestic: painting the biology hut, checking that the electrical wiring was working and that the fire alarm was working kept everyone busy enough, but feeling trapped and a bit on edge.

Black Friday April 13 1956, brought in the weather change they’d been waiting for:

 The wind is down to a sensible 20 – 30 knots and we even had a glimpse of the sun for about half an hour. With the weather decent again the place has been in a fever of outside activity. Lin and Coop on the weasels, the RAAF moving the Beaver into the hangar and Peter drilling holes for blizzard lines. John and I have been pushing on steadily. The biol hut is ready for occupation, complete, finished hoo bloody ray. The place looks darn good. We are now well under way with the office and should clean it up in three days. (Syd Kirkby’s diary)

Watch this space … the biology hut is about to be the scene of their first disaster. …


About lynettefinch

Dr Lynette Finch. Once I was a poster designer and illustrator. I ran a small poster business called Mantis Prints, specializing in political posters during the odd days of the Bjelke-Petersen Government in Queensland. I’m told my posters hung on the walls of Rizhsky railway station in Moscow, although I’m not sure about that. They are in the collections of the Queensland Art Gallery, on several on-line websites, and in the following book: Lynne Seear and Julie Ewington, eds. Light II, Contemporary Australian Art 1966-2006, Queensland Art Gallery Publishing, 2007, pp. 110-117. In my next incarnation I was a senior lecturer in history. I published books and articles on urban health and feeding people in modern industrial cities, on the Queensland home front in the second world war and the role and history of war propaganda. Sometimes I wrote about Marxism and its impact around the world as well as intimate oral histories of communists in Australia, their experiences in conservative society, their role as social and political radicals in small towns and cities. Once I went through a death phase and wrote about the role of the Coroners Court in colonial society, about abortion and infanticide in nineteenth century cities, and about the role of gossip in policing. My research took a decidedly happier direction when I was granted an Arts Fellowship to Antarctica in the 2007/08 season, as research for a biography about Antarctic surveyor and explorer Syd Kirkby. I bunkered down in a blizzard in Brooke's hut near Davis station and imagined what it was like for Syd, caught for twelve days in a 150-knot blizzard, high in the plateau beyond Mawson in 1960. Some of my books: Australia’s Frontline: Remembering the 1939-45 War. With the rapid escalation of the Pacific War in 1942, Queenslanders suddenly found themselves perilously close to the frontline, especially those in the far north. The book is based on interviews of men and women who worked their farms in the north, some of them Italians and Germans who were interned as enemy aliens. Nevertheless, the book is essentially a story of courage, of community spirit and neighbourliness, and of the public and private war effort of a community facing crisis and loss. Dark Angel: Propaganda in Modern Warfare. This book traces the origins and development of propaganda and media manipulation from the 1800s to today’s ‘spin’ and ‘false news’. Why have governments at war allocated resources to propaganda leaflets, broadcasts, movies and art during major military conflicts? Read the book. You’ll find the answer. The Classing Gaze: Sexuality, Class and Surveillance. Concepts like sexuality and class share the same moment of birth during the nineteenth century as social inquiry turned to analysis of the workings, population growth, thought patterns, economic systems and internal bodily workings of humans (or Man, to be historically accurate). How did these ideological concepts impact in the real world? A great deal, is the short answer, outlined in this book. Young in a Warm Climate: a history of childhood in Queensland is an edited volume about childhood on the Queensland frontiers, at school, at home, in hospitals and other institutions. Fixing Antarctica: Mapping the Frozen South. In 1956, in the height of the cold war, the biggest wintering expedition that Australia had ever sent to Antarctica set out to map the great frozen landmass of Antarctica, driven by official fears that the Soviet Union meant to take the continent for themselves. The fourteen scientists were chosen from a field of hundreds of applicants. The surveyor, the central character in Fixing Antarctica, was Sydney Kirkby. Over the next twenty years, Syd Kirkby explored and map more unknown regions in the world than any other person in history. Earth, Wind and Fire is essentially twelve generations of my father’s mother’s family but it’s much more than that. It’s kind of Game of Thrones without the dragons. It starts with a kidnapped girl in Shelford, Nottinghamshire in the east midlands of England in 1618 and follows an unbroken chain of recorded births, deaths and marriages which spans four centuries until, six generations later, her descendants flee their farms in Ireland and join the diaspora to Australia. Using family stories, family photographs, published diaries and official documents, it’s the interwoven stories of five families struggling to survive amidst the most tumultuous times in European history. What’s next? I’m wandering into the boggy territory of creative fiction, writing a series of crime stories set on King Island, a beautiful windy island in the Bass Strait between Victoria and Tasmania. I’ve finished the first draft of Book One, The Rock. There will be seven, I think. I’m also writing a stand along novel, called The Key Collector. It’s about a World traveller, Angela who settles in a Tasmanian village near her daughter and grandson where she witnesses a car crash that kills three women. Convinced the collision was an act of murder, she digs into the tragic lives of the victims and is mired in a mystery stretching across three continents and reaching into the second world war.

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