IN MEMORIAM

1. CHARLES GEOFFREY WYLIE
2. ADITYA KASHYAP
3. CHANDRA LAL SAH THULGHARIA
4. DURGA CHARAN KALA
5. THE OSMASTON FAMILY
6. HENRY BRADFORD WASHBURN, JR.

 

 

 

In John Hunt's book The Ascent of Everest, he introduces the members of his team with short biographical notes. Of Wylie he writes as follows: 'Charles' services had already been obtained from the War Office early in September. He was working as organising secretary during the interim period before my arrival and he was to continue in that capacity, as my invaluable assistant, throughout the preparatory period. Charles is a serving officer of the Brigade of Gurkhas; he had spent most of the war in a Japanese prison camp. That he had weathered this so well was doubtless due to his selflessness and sympathy for others, his faith and his cheerful disposition. We have to be grateful to him that the expedition's equipment was so meticulously prepared and documented, that every minor detail was thought of and provided for.'

At this stage there was, of course, no mention of the further immense contribution he was yet to make to the success of the 1953 expedition.

Charles perfonned with calm efficiency the seemingly mindboggling task of marshalling the hundreds of porters and two-score Sherpas without whom Hillary and Tenzing would not have reached the summit of Everest. A fluent Urdu and Nepali speaker, Wylie, as transport officer, was almost literally responsible for keeping the show on the road, ensuring the movement of men and supplies both to and up the mountain, soothing porters' grievances and keeping their spirits up through bad weather and hard toil. In this he worked closely with Tenzing who he had helped persuade to join the expedition as Sirdar, when he was looking forward to a rest after two exhausting expeditions with the Swiss in 1952. The two had previously met in Kashmir in 1948. The partnership fonned between Tenzing and Wylie as they handled the Everest bandobast was probably as central to the expedition's success as the pairing of Ten zing and Hillary for the summit bid.

The success of our 1953 expedition was, as Hunt was always at pains to point out, the result of unstinting teamwork. Yet inevitably the names that are remembered are those of the New Zealander and the Sherpa who stood on top. Wylie, however, was modesty personified, to the extent that his vital role in the enterprise is all-but unknown except to those familiar with mountaineering history. Imperturbable and unfailingly polite, he really did fit the image of the quintessential English gentleman.

Yet perhaps it wasn't his Englishness that made him such an ideal manager of 350 porters - 'coolies' in the imperial parlance - along with Sherpas, cooks, and mail runners, but three generations of association with Nepal and its Gurkhas. Indeed Wylie's very gentleness might be said to be more of a Nepali quality than English.

His grandfather was the British Resident in Kathmandu in the 1890s and his father, commissioned into the 4th Gurkha Rifles, became Chief Recruiting Officer for all the Gurkhas. Charles was born on Christmas eve 1919 at Bakloh, regimental home of the 4th Gurkhas in the Punjab hills, and was fluent in the language of his garrison playmates by the age of six when he was 'sent home' to school — promptly forgetting Gurkhali, though it proved easily relearned.

I had always been rather vague about Wylies' mountaineering record; Hunt had merely mentioned that he had good Alpine and home experience, and had climbed in Garhwal shortly after the war. So I looked up his application for the Alpine Club, approved in December 1947, and was astonished to read that he had been proposed by no less than Geoffrey Winthrop Young, and had already made four visits to the Alps, climbing over 25 respectable peaks, while still a teenager. His course for Everest was probably as good as set at Marlborough College where his housemaster was Edwin Kempson who had been on expeditions to the mountain in 1935 and 1936. Kempson also influenced two other alumni on the 1953 expedition, John Hunt and Michael Ward who, with Charles, later held an impromptu Old Marlburian Dinner at over 20,000 ft in Everest's Western Cwm !

Passing out fifth of 180 cadets from the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst, in 1939 (the same year he was also the British Pentathlon Champion) Wylie was commissioned into the 1st Gurkha Rifles and returned to India one month before war was declared. The regiment was sent to Malaya where it was driven back by the invading Japanese and he was taken prisoner. Wylie was made to work on the infamous Burma-Siam railway, enduring three-and-a-half years of cruelty, deprivation and disease. He spoke little of this experience, though in an interview recorded by The Gurkha Museum two years ago described in detail his capture, ensnared in a bungalow on a rubber estate, after days on the run through jungle without food.

Arriving at the bungalow, Wylie and the other soldiers flopped on the floor exhausted and slept, but were woken being fired upon. They had virtually nothing for any fight-back, just Wylie's pistol and ammunition that 'would have gone in about two seconds'. Rather than waste lives, they surrendered and a Japanese soldier entered the bungalow. 'He was astonished to see all of us there with our hands up. Anyhow he thought he had better kill somebody I suppose and he came straight for me. But he was a bit hesitant. I detected it. He was just about to shove a bayonet into my stomach and I very quietly put my hands down and pushed his long bayonet to one side and then I handed my pistol to him. And that was it. They were funny little chaps.' Wylie drew back from revealing his feelings about subsequent brutalities and when asked what kept him going through his years of captivity replied simply: 'Hope. Hope kept us going.'

In 1947 Wylie rejoined his regiment in Peshawar, on the North West Frontier. When, on Independence, the 1st Gurkhas remained with the new Indian army he transferred to the 10th Gurkha Rifles (later Princess Mary's Own) going on to see more action during the Malayan Emergency and eventually retiring as a lieutenant-colonel in 1970.

Wylie returned to mountaineering in 1947 with an attempt on the much-coveted Nilkantha 21,640 ft (6596 m) in the Garhwal Himalaya, with five camps above the snowline. That same year he climbed in the Bernina Alps and the Valais with Jimmy Roberts, a fellow Gurkha officer and one of the founders of trekking in Nepal. With a guide, he also traversed the Matterhom by the fine combination of ascent by the Zmutt ridge - the true classic of the mountain - and descent via the Italian ridge. In a rare venture into print, Wylie wrote an article for the Alpine Journal entitled 'A Long Day on Piz Palü', describing one of their climbs and wondering if their zeal for big traverses that year stemmed from 'a sense of seasons wasted in war'.

When in September 1952, the Himalayan Committee appointed Wylie organising secretaty for the 1953 Everest expedition, it was assumed Eric Shipton would be the leader. But the committee being desperate for success conspired to replace the veteran mountaineer-explorer with a soldier of known drive. Both Wylie and Roberts were briefly in the frame, however the leadership passed to John Hunt. As another Everester, the schoolmaster Wilfrid Noyce, observed: 'It would have been difficult to find two more gentle, gentlemanly military men to rule over us than Charles and John.'

On leaving the UK, Wylie ceased to be organising secretary and took on the mantle of transport officer. He was also in demand as a translator, notably for the expedition's audience at the Thyangboche monastery, and was also, of course, a member of the climbing team. During the build up, Wylie received news of the birth of a son, the telegram being forwarded over the Indian wireless link to Namche Bazar and on up the Khumbu valley by runner. The head of the wireless station had added a flourish of his own to these glad tidings: 'I am transported with great exultation to announce the birth of your son. I hope that you have cause for similar rejoicing at least once a year. Please pay the bearer one rupee baksheesh.'

Wylie's great contribution high on the mountain was on the South Col 'carry', a crucial breakthrough after the expedition came close to being beaten by fresh snow, cold and fatigue on the Lhotse Face - the 4000 ft (1220 m) barrier that has to be climbed to reach the Col from the Western Cwm. Some 500 Ibs of equipment and stores were needed on the Col if the team was to make any bids for the summit, but for 12 days the expedition was stalled on the face.

The golden moment for Hunt and those of us at advance base camp down in the Cwm came on 22 May when we saw 17 figures strung out on the traverse between Camp VII at 24,000 ft (7315 m) and the Geneva Spur at 26,000 ft (7925 m),just before the Col. Hunt had rushed up Hillary and Tenzing to give fresh impetus, and in their footsteps on the face came Wylie and his 14 Sherpas, each with a 30 lb (14 kg) load. One Sherpa faltered, but Wylie took over his load, completing the ascent to the Col without the assistance of bottled oxygen which had run out. They had carried a greater quantity of stores than ever before to a height the equivalent of Annapurna, then the highest summit yet climbed. As Wylie and his men dumped their loads at the Col the expedition's progress was back on course. It was the Sherpa's finest hour.

Three years after Everest, Wylie was a member of an expedition led by his friend Jimmy Roberts to climb Machapuchare, the 22,940 ft (6992 m) 'Fish Tail Peak' above the Nepali lake resort of Pokhara. Wilfrid Noyce and David Cox were halted by columns of blue ice 150 ft (45 m) below the summit. At Roberts' suggestion, no permits have since been issued for Machapuchare and it has remained officially unclimbed.

Wylie became British Military Attache in Kathmandu from 1961 to 1964, a posting that enabled him to take up the offer of a present Tenzing had wanted to give him since their days on Everest — a Lhasa Apso puppy. Tenzing bred the dogs at his home in Darjeeling. After retirement Wylie worked on behalf of charities as secretary of the Gurkha Welfare Trust and Britain-Nepal Medical Trust and was Chairman of the Britain-Nepal Society for five years. He was awarded OBE in 1995.

In 1948 Charles married Diana Lucas and they had three sons and a daughter before she died in 1974. The 25th Anniversary of the Everest success was in 1978, and several members of the team celebrated by trekking with their wives from Darjeeling to the Everest area. Charles had just married Sheila Green so for him it was a second honeymoon. I took the accompanying photograph in the village of Godal, East Nepal, where we had a rest day, 2 November, which turned out to be the 5th day of the Diwali festival. The schoolmaster invited us to a 'tikka' ceremony for his Governing Board. We were each garlanded with marigolds and marked with tikkas. As Charles' expression rather suggests, we all consumed rather more 'rakshi' than was probably good for us!

Charles died in Guildford on 18 July 2007. In his final years he was working on his memoirs Peaks and Troughs which have yet to find a publisher. On Everest's fiftieth anniversary, he retold the story of the 'Great Carry' at a Royal Gala Celebration in London, entitled 'Endeavour on Everest', in the presence of the Queen. Answering questions put by Sir David Attenborough, the nonnally reticent Wylie gave one of the most emotionally charged performances of the occasion, reliving an endeavour shared with a people, the Sherpas, for whom he had a lifetime's respect and affection.

GEORGE BAND
(with assistance from Stephen Goodwin)

 

 

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He was born in Gurudaspur, Punjab. Following upon his early education, Aditya obtained a degree in mechanical engineering from IIT, Bombay and did his MBA subsequently from IIM Calcutta before joining TAT A Steel (TISCO then). He served the Company with distinction for 22 years and left it as a top executive to start his own business as Managing Director of MOBAR.

Aditya's achievements were varied and many and these have been well catalogued. He was intelligent and I had first hand evidence of his wide range of economic and financial acumen when he had been invited with Russi to lunch in London by the then Chairman of Grind lays Bank pic. That was in the early eighties. He fielded most of the questions posed by hard nosed bankers and clearly impressed them, particularly in his statements, now almost prophetic, on the market and growth potential of India.

The newspapers have been full of stories of his achievements and administrative skills. They reminded us that he was President of the prestigious Bengal Club in 2006 and of the many changes he had introduced, and dwelt at length on how his death was a big loss for Indian soccer. During his days with TATA Steel he had played a major role in bringing teams like Sao Paulo, PSV Eindhoven and Bochum to India to play against national sides. His was a repeat performance when he brought Sao Paulo recently to India again, this time as IF A president, a position he was elected to in 2006. Ailing as he was, he drove himself hard to make the visit an overwhelming success. I chided him on the need to push himself, but he let that pass by telling me of the big plans he had in bringing top teams to India within the next two years. Raising funds is no mean task when one no longer has the direct access to corporate funds, yet he achieved almost single handedly a budget of Rs. 4 crores to cover the last visit by Sao Paulo.

I brought him into the membership of The Himalayan Club in late 2005 and recommended him for a place on its central Managing Committee which, as it happened, he occupied for a short period of a little over membership of The Himalayan Club in late 2005 and recommended him for a place on its central Managing Committee which, as it happened, he occupied for a short period of a little over three months. He was younger than me by several years and clearly I had visions of him as doing much for the Club. Despite our age difference he greeted me often with an 'hi, young Meher'. What is not commonly known was that he had a close affinity with mountains and looked forward to his regular visits to Darjeeling where he had a home and used to refer to Kangchenjunga as his 'personal picture frame' for the view that it provided through his window. He had a natural affinity with hill people and counted the likes of Nawang Gombu and others in the Sherpa community as his friends. During his days in TAT A Steel he was instrumental in making funds available to the fledgling HMI, Darjeeling. We spoke often on the future of The Himalayan Club and shared considerable commonality of thought and approach.

Importantly though, it is the quality of the man that I recall most. He was a wonderful human being. Everything about him was gracious and he had that special quality of generosity of heart and spirit. 'He was elite but modest; exacting yet tolerant; effective yet never unfair; a rare man who possessed qualities that rarely coexist.' He was a magnanimous host and enjoyed the good life, but was ever mindful of the needs of the less fortunate, especially children. He was suffering from prostrate gland cancer for sometime which had spread to other parts of his body. He bore his ailment and pain with stoicism, never faltered in his treatment, never complained and remained optimistic till the end. His courage and zest for life obviated any show of self pity. Those of us who were close to him knew that he was severely ill, though none of us imagined the end would come so fast, including, I guess, Aditya.

He died on Sunday the 22 April 2007 morning of a severe heart attack. We had met him on the Friday evening before that. His parting words were 'Meher, I have to rush, the Governor is coming to where I am going and I am already late. Just leave instructions with Amit and Amar (he never called them servants) and it will all be done. I shall catch up with you later.' That was the last we met and spoke. As it happened the present and past State Governors came calling at his funeral with a host of other dignitaries and friends.

We took a wreath to his funeral from us all in the Himalayan Club and one from the President of the HC. A multitude of people attended the funeral and the arrangements were akin to that ofa deserving dignitary. The memorial service, held on the lawns of his home on the following day, was in Sanskrit interspersed with explanations in English. It was a tastefully conducted service. Among others, Russi Mody gave a simple but moving eulogy. I admired his composure. Aditya was his companion for 37 years and was Russi's adopted son.

A confirmed bachelor, he is survived by his mother, his two brothers and a sister and of course Russi Mody. We wish his soul rest and his family and friends solace.

MEHER H MEHTA

 

 

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Visionary, idealist, enthusiast, philanthropist, humanitarian, social worker, crusader, missionary, refonnist, dedicated, public spirited - all these qualities would apply to describe Chandra Lal Sah Thulgharia - a man known throughout the Kumaun hills and beyond.

Born on 9 June 1923, his father was the philanthropic 'Daanveer' Chet Ram Sah Thulgharia, to whom this son was born late in his life. Shri Chet Ram Lal Sah became famous for setting up educational institutions and dharamshalas, and for journeying out each year with mule trains laden with silver coins, blankets and grain to distribute to the needy.

Chandra Lal Sah, with nephews of his own age and grandnephews the age of his children, came to be popularly called Bujju (grandfather/ grand uncle in Kumauni) by all and sundry. 'Thulgharia' the family name, means 'owner of a big house' and Bujju received a substantial inheritance when his father passed away when he was but 6 years of age.

Managing his own properties and not tied to a daily grind, Bujju could have lived a life of comfort and ease. But he chose to become a pathfinder and promoter, throughout the hi lls, of many important causes. These ongoing activities are his true legacy, for which he will be long remembered.

He actively participated in the struggle for emancipation of the downtrodden classes. Lifelong he only wore clothing made of Khadi (homespun material), and carried a Khadi bag his trademark.

In 1959 Bujju brought closed circuit TV to Nainital, at an exhibition in CRST Inter College, something vividly remembered even today by the thousands (including the writer) who thronged the venue. It was a mind-expanding moment for many, to actually see themselves on a television, something one read of only in the papers in the context of Europe and America. Doordarashan television eventually reached Nainital in the mid-eighties, twenty-five years later!

Bujju, in 1964 took a group of school boys on a trek to the Pindari glacier. From childhood he had a dream of climbing Everest, and an interest in trekking and mountain climbing.

In 1968, he set up the Nainital Mountaineering Club (NTMC), which he ran as Honorary Secretary till 1993, then as President till 2002, and finally was chairman, General Body till his death in 2006. It is the NTMC with Bujju is most closely identified and which made his name synonymous with adventure activities in the whole of Kumaun and elsewhere.

Bujju, during his political days developed a lot of contacts, now in high places. These he used most effectively in two ways, in the service of adventure. Firstly, he managed to get for the NTMC, on a nominal government lease, a 10-acre outcropping of rock formations at Nainital, know as Bara Patthar. This gave the NTMC a unique training area, close to town yet on its own, where every type of rock climbing activity can be practiced. Very few private organisations in India can boast of such a training area. Major credit for this achievement goes to Bujju's persuasive powers and enthusiasm.

To mark five years of its establishment, the NTMC under Bujju launched its first mountaineering expedition to the unclimbed its Nanda Khat (6611 m) in 1972. It was a successful first ascent; during the expedition the team also climbed Bauljuri (5922 m) on 30 September 1972 to exactly commemorate the NTMC foundation day.

Since resources were limited, Bujju took a policy decision that the NTMC would primarily focus on rock training, trekking etc. to give a larger number of youngsters a taste for adventure, and so spread the message far and wide. Climbing of major peaks, while remaining very much an objective of the NTMC, would not be its prime focus.

This policy continues to this day, and has paid rich dividends to the cause of adventure. Till Bujju's death, approximately 24,454 persons from all over India, mainly youth, have taken rock climbing training from the NTMC. In tum they will act like grains of yeast in the dough, causing the whole mass to rise. This idea of adventure in so many minds is truly the greatest monument to this outstanding man.

In 1974 the NTMC organised the 'Nanda Devi Sanctuary Recce cum Scientific Expedition'. It became the eighth expedition to reach the Nanda Devi Sanctuary. A lake in the northern sanctuary was named 'Rishi Tal' by them, and it has today become the accepted name for this lake, the source of the Rishi ganga.

In 1982 Bujju faced his darkest hour when his son Nirmal slipped and died during a climbing expedition to Bhagarithi II peak, leaving behind a six month old son and a young widow. Reeling from the blow, Bujju rushed to the area to recover the body of his son, found it, and performed the cremation at Gaumukh, source of the Ganga. Then, in a pioneering move and contrary to the established nonns of the region, he arranged for his youngest son Rajesh to marry the young widowed daughter in law. For the close knit and orthodox Sah community, it was a social revolution of sorts, an occurrence unheard of earlier. But Bujju was more concerned with the long-term welfare of his daughter-in-law, and thought that this was the best way forward.

Bujju during his latter years had the satisfaction of seeing his eldest son Anup carve out a growing name and fame of international stature for himself in the field of photography and also in adventure. Anup's achievements can be directly linked to the seeds of interest planted by his father. Bujju's grandchildren too are following in his footsteps.

Bujju loved meeting people and travelled far and wide. He was always on the move, going somewhere or coming form somewhere. His personality, his humour, his typical attire, and his zeal and zest for positive things left an impression on all he came across. In his last year, Bujju become quiet and introspective. He breathed his last on 30 November 2006, during his 83rd year.

Bujju was a devotee of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother of Pondicherry, and this stanza from a poem by Sri Aurobindo, one of Bujju's favourites, will make an apt conclusion.

AKSHOBH SINGH

 

 

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Durga Charan Kala hailed from a family of Pauri Garhwal Brahmins distinguished by their literary leanings and feisty character. Kala grew up in the Kumaun hills where his father Govind Ram was a sub-divisional magistrate. The latter in his memoir of the Raj mentions how he had infuriated his British superiors by sentencing leniently Sarala Devi an English Gandhian worker sent to organise the Quit India movement in Nainital. To mark the family penchant for doing their own thing, Kala infuriated many of his clan by studying at Aligarh Muslim University and choosing thereafter to wear a lungi. His eclectic spirit would later take him to Mirtola ashram along with a journalist colleague Purushotam Batra. Both were voracious readers and collectors of books and together as editors with The Hindustan Times they went out of their way to encourage young writers. Incredibly Kala typed the first manuscript of his biography of Jim Corbett on an office typewriter equipped only with capital letters. Despite the propensity to shoot his budding literary career in the foot, the book attracted the notice of serious naturalists. Encouraged by this acclaim Kala sold his newly built house in Delhi to finance a modest retirement plan. He would move to the hills and further his research and explorations into his first love, the natural magnificence of the Himalaya. His adventurous disposition made him one of the early visitors to the mystery lake of Rupkund.

 

To cover up an exceedingly soft heart Kala would assume a truculent exterior which fooled no one who knew him. His essential geniality enabled him to fit in to any society. The good karma accumulated from the thoroughness of his studies found him in Ravi Dayal not only a congenial neighbour in Ranikhet but India's most select publisher. Kala's later years were marred by ill health but this did not affect his dedication to finishing the book on Raja Wilson of Harsil, a maverick character in whom Kala perhaps recognised some of his own strengths. Sadly Ravi Dayal passed away suddenly just before the book was published but Kala managed to soldier on and had the satisfaction, albeit on his death bed of knowing he had won the Kekoo Naoroji Award for memorable writing on Himalayan subjects. While Kala had in full measure the journalist's gift to transmute rum into inspiration he will be remembered for his vintage literary achievement. Though not extensive his work is both durable and - like the man - loveable.

BILL AITKEN

Sitting here in the mountains he held so dear, reminiscing about Kala Mama, my mind is flooded with nostalgic memories of the halcyon days of my youth that I spent with him in Nainital. Feeling 'special', the unbridled joy that washed over me when he would summon me to accompany him on those long walks in the forest; the hours we spent together making cider from Rimer apples; my first tot of rum with him when I cleared my class 10 boards; the quiet hours I spent in his sitting room poring over his books; the delightful evenings together when he enraptured me with personal anecdotes, baffled me with the intricacies of dry fly fishing or the nuances of mysticism and enthused me with lessons on natural history while casually cooking finger-licking-good pork chops that we devoured together... Kala Mama was all this and much more to me.

Kala Mama, as I fondly called him, was born in Nainital on 2nd July, 1921 as Durga Charan Kala and described himself as a naturalist, a lover of the wilderness and wide open spaces. His father, Sri Govind Ram Kala was a civil servant based in Kumaon and he spent his early years here in spacious wooded bungalows, in a tea garden and even an old fort - at the age of 12, he built himself a tree house!

After taking a masters degree in geography at Aligarh Muslim University, he chose journalism and started as an apprentice with the Leader (Allahabad) in 1945 and ended his career with the Hindustan Times.

When he retired, he decided to return tu the hills that he loved so much and lived for a couple of years at Naukuchiatal in an old bungalow overlooking the pristine lake. He then moved to Nainital and lived for five years in a house next door to us. I was then at school and found my mentor in him — we formed a very close bond. He was an amazing teacher with a wide knowledge base and introduced me to the exotic world of birds, plants, wild flowers and the subtleties of the great outdoors. Thanks to him my love affair with nature bloomed.

He travelled extensively in the Himalaya — which he loved — including the Kullu valley, up the Bhagirathi to its source and Rupkund. Kala Mama soldiered up to the Pindari glacier at the age of 65 with me in tow, sharing his immense knowledge of the intricacies of the natural world.

In 1954 he was one of the first visitors pennitted into Corbett National Park — then known as Hailey National Park — and it was E.P.Gee and he who were instrumental in getting the park reopened to the public. Ever the naturalist, he travelled to Bharatpur, Periyar, Madumalai, Bandipur and the faraway Kerala Highlands.

His nature vignettes and articles on wildlife have featured in several leading Indian dailies. He authored the first authoritative biography of Corbett — Jim Corbett of Kumaon (Publisher — Ravi Dayal) and his latest book Frederick Wilson ('Hulson Sahib') of Garhwal (Publisher — Ravi Dayal) is the fruit of a three-decade-long labour of love.

Though he came across as a person with a rough countenance he had a very pleasing demeanour and his house was always a welcome refuge for all. Visitors were always offered a drink of his favourite Old Monk rum — in fact we joked that he was the best advertisement for the brand — the old monk drinking Old Monk! A smoker since college, he loved collecting pipes and only smoked cigarettes that he rolled himself — interestingly last year he quit smoking after almost 70 years. A voracious reader, he loved his solitude and would not hesitate to ask a visitor to 'vanish' if they overstayed. Lovingly called Mahatma by his dear friends he was stubbornly independent and refused any help even in his last days. Full of idiosyncrasies, Kala Mama was a gentle soul and an irreplaceable human being.

Kala Mama spent the last decade living in Ranikhet in an old cottage surrounded by stately deodars, wild flowers and birds, in an environment he loved dearly. I will miss the grand old man of Ranikhet as undoubtedly will all friends, colleagues and proteges whose lives he touched and enhanced.

AKSHAY SAH

 

 

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I read with regret about the demise of Henry Osmaston, in the latest issue of the Himalayan Journal (Vol. 62, p. 258). May I add some more facts about him and his family?

Henry was born in Dehra Dun, the son of Arthur E. Osmaston, who was serving in the Imperial Forest Service in India. Henry's obituary covers his many achievements and scholastic distinctions. The Osmaston family had an extraordinary connection with the Forest Service - several members of this clan served in India, England and other parts of the old British Empire such as Uganda, where Henry worked as a forester.

The most prominent member of the Osmaston family in India was Bertram B. Osmaston, who was in the IFS from 1888 to 1923 and who rose to become President of the FRI at Dehra Dun in 1916. B. B. Osmaston was a forestry expert, an ace Shikari and one of the most eminent authorities on Indian birds in his time, especially in the knowledge of Himalayan birds. His many scientific papers on birds were published in the prestigious Journal of the Bombay Natural History Society and his bird collections now reside at several important museums. Today's generation of bird watchers is largely ignorant of any of the earlier titans and pioneers who built up the knowledge of birds in India and can only recollect the name of the famous Dr. Salim Ali or sometimes, the illustrious Humayun Abdul Ali.

Two of B. B. Osmaston's younger brothers followed him into the IFS, Arthur being the father of Henry. B. B. Osmaston's eldest son Berrie, also continued the tradition of joining the forestry service in India.

Another son of B. B. Osmaston, Brigadier Gordon Osmaston, was a founder member of the HC and a former Director of the Survey of India. Henry Osmaston has thrown light on his cousin's distinguished career in an article written on Gordon's demise. Gordon did much pioneering mapping work with his Indian colleagues, significantly in the Garhwal Himalaya in 1936-38. He also had to work in Burma, Waziristan, Sind and the Rann of Kutch. One of his assignments was to do survey work from Assam across the turbulent Naga Hills into Burma, and he had to be given an armed escort of soldiers as the Naga tribes were permanently at war with each other with incidents of head hunting common. On another tour in Assam, he was camped in Khasi country and narrowly escaped the wrath of an enormous wild tusker - fleeing from his tent just before the tusker ripped it from the ground. A survey that he undertook around the Gangotri glacier resulted in a correction of an earlier error in fixing its position. He also met a young Sherpa called Tenzing whom he took along with him and Shipton on his survey trip to Nanda Devi in 1936 - the beginning of many expeditions together - a notable one being the survey trip in the Almora district close to the Tibet border where they were mapping the Milam glacier. Many years later they again met after Tenzing was the world renowned hero of Everest. Gordon later became a schoolmaster in a school by Lake Windmere, England. He turned his house into a hostel for children to whom he introduced the joys of outdoor life and the teachings of his Christian religion, for he came from a devoutly religious background. He died in 1990 at the ripe old age of 92.

In 1977, Gordon Osmaston had published a book based on the diaries of his father B. B. Osmaston. A new edition was released by Henry Osmaston in 1999, which he presented to the BNHS. It is an interesting account of a bygone era when the sub-continent bore a different appearance. The incidents related commence from 1888 up to 1923. It was an age where modem luxuries like motor transport and communication were sparse, and modem amenities and medicine to ward of discomfort and disease were few. B. B. Osmaston had to take a pony cart from Sahranpur to report for duty at Dehra Dun - there being no rail connection. His first posting was in the hills beyond Chakrata where he journeyed by pony cart and by foot. At Mundali he shot and rid the area of a man-eating Tigress which had made a rare appearance at 9000 ft and terrorised the area. Various other postings followed in the United Provinces - and interesting incidents and places are detailed in his memoirs. A lot of his work was in the hills of Kumaun and Garhwal and being keenly interested in birds and wildlife, he gradually became an authority on the fauna and flora of the Himalaya, Siwaliks, the Terai and other parts of India.

As Conservator of Forests in the United Provinces, he was posted at Nainital. In his time he made acquaintance with some of the distinguished stalwarts of Indian forestry such as J. S. Gamble, Harry Champion, S. Eardley Wilmot and Ribbentrop. Quite a few chapters are devoted to the birds of the different habitats he visited. He had kept quite a collection of varied birds picked up from the nest as fledglings as he toured different forests. He was quite enamoured by the Shama and considered it the finest songster in India.

He was a zealous shikari and there are some hair raising episodes of his pluck and the narrow escapes he had from Tigers and Leopards. There were elaborate hunting camps organised for Government VIP's, such as the Governor, in areas teeming with game and some of the hunting episodes described in the book took place in the prime hunting area familiar today as the Corbett National Park. There were also postings to the Darjeeling forests, much more wetter and diverse than his Kumaun hills, and a tenure in the Andamans where he did much exploring of the bird life of those islands. He also spent time in Burma and on retirement was Chief Conservator of the Central Provinces, based at Pachmarhi. It was near around the present Kanha park area that he bagged the biggest Tiger he ever saw in his 34 years in India.

One is struck by the great abundance of forests and wildlife in those days and dismayed at the eagerness with which all creatures from birds, otters to non man-eating Tigers and Panthers, that were shot as trophies by Osmaston and his fellows. Those were decades when a heavy toll was taken of wild animal populations, considered inexhaustible, with powerful and accurate firearms. Tigers, Panthers and other species were proscribed as vermin as they took an appreciable toll of humans in certain parts of the country. As Henry has mentioned in his foreword, the attitude of the bulk of the ruling British classes in those days was not like the contemporary thinking of this era that appreciates the aesthetic beauty and wonder of living creatures. But one acknowledges the splendid work done in the field of bird study, the development of forestry, the high standards of integrity sadly lacking in this,day, and the courage, exploratory spirit and physical robustness of B. B. Osmaston and his British and Indian contemporaries that was a crucial factor in sustaining their work in remote forests, and allowing their survival in a much harsher environment and in life threatening situations.

PERVEZ CAMA

 

 

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On 10 January, 2007 we lost a visionary, a world-class mountaineer and explorer, a scientist and teacher, and perhaps the most prolific mountain photographer of all time when Brad Washburn passed away at the age of 96.

I first met Brad only 15 years ago, but as a climber I had known of him and his many accomplishments a long time. Brad and Barbara came to visit, as Brad wanted a look at one of my photographs of Everest that he thought might be useful. Never ones to procrastinate, they arrived just 45 minutes after our first conversation, already in their eighties but still with the energy to put most people half their age to shame. They were busy with Brad's latest innovative project to re-measure the exact height of Everest using state-of-the-art technology and some top climbers who were to plant a GPS receiver on the highest rock projection near the summit. They did it the next year, and I remember when the new official height of Everest-29,035 feet-was read aloud at the National Geographic Society in Washington DC.

We spent a lovely afternoon with them that first evening. I'll never forget Brad explaining to me with contagious enthusiasm how maps were made-for the first time I really understood! What made Brad a great teacher was his own insatiable interest in so many things.

Most everyone is familiar with Brad's many ascents of Mt. McKinley, including the first ascent of the west buttress, and, of course, the landmark 1947 ascent with Barbara, who became the first woman to climb McKinley. And there, were the first ascents of mounts Crillon and Bertha, and that marvelous picture of Brad and Barbara on top.

But not everyone knows that Brad was climbing in the Alps as a teenager and was one of the most accomplished American alpinists of his day with ascents of the Matterhorn, Mt. Blanc, the Charmoz, and the airy needle of the Grepon. His greatest and most technical climb (according to Brad) occuned in the French Alps when he was just 19. Along with local guides AlbeIt Coutier and Georges Charlet, Brad made the first ascent of the 4000-foot sheer north face of the Aguille Vert in a single day, A good feat even by today's standards, and Brad did it in 1929. He published stories for boys of his early adventures in his popular series Among the Alps with Bradford, which helped pay his way through Harvard.

The stories from his adventure were endless and what often amazed me was Brad's ability to recall specific details from so many years ago, 'even in his final years when his short-tenn memory had suffered so much.

If all Brad and Barbara had done was climb mountains they would be famous enough, but they of course did so much more. When we speak of mountain photography I believe there are few if any equals to Brad Washburn. The precision and artistry of his work puts him in a tiny group of visionaries like Vittorio Sella and Ansel Adams. And frankly, in many ways, Brad was better. You can always tell a Washburn. The detail is so exceptional you feel you are right there, peering through the open door of a small aircraft into the cold Alaskan wilderness. And yet in each photo there is something unique and personal, the curious eye of a relentless explorer. No matter how much you magnify a Washburn you will always find more.

From a mountaineer's perspective, it is hard to fathom the enonnous impact his photos have had on exploratory climbing and first ascent as practically every serious expedition to Alaska has been planned and plotted over an 8x10-inch black and white of the intended ridge or vertical wall taken by Brad during one of his countless flights over Alaska. We climbers owe him a great debt.

This quote from one of Brad's early mentors sums it up: 'Brad Washburn is one of the very few people who have combined spectacular experience in the wilderness with equally spectacular achievements in the world of civilization. One never knows what to except next from this roving genius of mind and mountains, but whatever it is, we know it will be excellent and effective,' (That comment was from Ansel Adams in 1983.)

As a professional cartographer, Brad produced the most accurate and useful maps in existence of Mt McKinley, the Grand Canyon, the Western Yukon, and Everest, as well as the Everest and Presidential Range scale models. I dare say that the full impact and importance of Brad and Barbara's work will not be known or fully appreciated for many years, the scope is simply so vast.

In 1939, not long after graduating from Harvard, Brad accepted a position as Director of the Museum of Natural History in Boston. This would lead to Brad's instrumental role in founding and developing Boston's Museum of Science and his extraordinary gift to public education. Under Brad's imaginative leadership and effective administration, the Museum of Science has become one of the finest teaching museums in the world. 'Museums should be a place where learning is fun and exciting,' Brad often remarked, and his museum would set a new standard for interactive exhibits. It was also the first major museum to incorporate all the sciences under one roof. Brad's work with the museum was a lifelong commitment. Forty-one years as its director and well into his eighties, Brad could be found in his office enthusiastically involved in a new exhibit or program.

The museum is also where he met Barbara, who came to interview for a secretarial position at the original natural history museum. She declined at first, and, as she said, 'I had no interest in working in that dusty old place filled with a bunch of decaying stuffed animals.' But Brad knew a good thing when he saw it, and like everything else he pursued in life, Brad didn't give up easily. After endless pestering from Brad, Barbara eventually accepted the position and they married shortly thereafter. So began a remarkable lifelong partnership, a busy and adventurous life; they were inseparable as they were always working together on some new project. And yet they still found time to raise three wonderful children.

Inevitable as Brad's passing was, it is hard to accept that he is accept that he is actually gone. Brad's death marks the end of an era, the final chapter in a visionary life spent so productively that there is no doubt his legacy will survive a very long time inspiring future climbers, scientists and artists around the world. More than anything else, I'll miss Brad's contagious love for living life to it's fullest. One of Brad's favorite quotes was from Rudyard Kipling's 1898 poem The Explorer: 'Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the ranges. Lost and waiting for you-Go!' Brad is survived by his wife Barbara and his three children, Dorothy, Betsy, and Edward.

MARK RICHEY, AAC

Brad Washburn was not a member of the Himalayan Club. This is a special tribute to him. Reprinted from the American Alpine Journal. - Ed.

 

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