Sir Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922) was a heroic failure. On his first trip to the Antarctic, from 1901–04, with Captain Scott—another heroic failure—he had to go home early because of bad health, even if the team did go farther south than any man before. In his second expedition, from 1907–09, Shackleton got even closer to his goal. Nonetheless, both he and Scott failed to get to the pole, while Roald Amundsen of Norway did, in 1911. Then, when Shackleton tried to go right across Antarctica, in 1914–17, he encountered a new level of disaster—when his ship, Endurance, was trapped and destroyed by pack ice. He triumphed only in averting more failure by leading lifeboats to South Georgia, a horrifying 830-mile journey, dodging killer whales and ice floes. On his final expedition, he died in 1921, aged only forty-seven, of heart failure. At his widow’s request, he was buried in South Georgia. Still, despite these serial failures, you can’t help but admire Shackleton’s sheer doggedness and resilience.
“For scientific leadership, give me Scott. For swift and efficient travel, Amundsen. But when you are in a hopeless situation, when there seems to be no way out, get on your knees and pray for Shackleton.”
Sir Ranulph Fiennes, the greatest living polar explorer, certainly agrees. In his summary of Shackleton, he quotes the words of Shackleton’s polar contemporary Sir Raymond Priestley: “For scientific leadership, give me Scott. For swift and efficient travel, Amundsen. But when you
