Asia, Nepal, Annapurna, South Face Tragedy

Publication Year: 1983.

Annapurna, South Face Tragedy. Alex MacIntyre, René Ghilini and I climbed in the Annapurna Sanctuary in the post-monsoon season. Our main objective was a new route on Annapurna’s south face to the right of the Polish buttress. The expedition ended in tragedy when Alex was killed when descending from 23,625 feet on the face. The expedition was low-cost and light-weight, with a total budget of only $5500. We had only 29 porters to carry to Base Camp, which was established at 14,000 feet on September 15, just at the end of the monsoon. We immediately began what Alex described as a “heavy-duty” acclimatization program. During September 18 to 20, while Alex was tent-bound with an infected toe, René and I climbed to the bottom of the proposed route on the south face. We followed the Polish ridge initially and then turned right above the glacier to bivouac at 20,000 feet. The hot afternoon sun brought a continuous deluge of water down the entire five-mile-wide face, accompanied by the eerie rumble and whine of rockfall. We consoled ourselves with thoughts of colder weather and shorter days when we should return to the face in mid-October. Alex’s toe had healed when we returned to Base. We three then made a number of sorties, climbing high but reaching no summits on peaks on both sides of the Sanctuary. We completed the acclimatization program, and although I did not realize it immediately, I was finished off as well. Perhaps being ten years older than the other two or perhaps dysentery contributed, but four days later when the time came to leave for the face, I was not well enough to be confident of climbing the face in the planned three days and then of descending the north side. Alex and René waited for one more day, but I was still unwell when they left on October 10. The next day the second major storm of the trip forced them to descend to Base. On the 13th they set out again in clear, cold weather. A line of vicious snow plumes blew from the summits. The winter jet stream had descended to 26,000 feet. There was no sign of them during the stormy day that followed. During the afternoon of the 15th two tiny dots appeared beyond the ramp at half height on the face in a spectacular position between overhanging walls above and below. The next morning was clear and I watched as they moved up to a 100-foot rock band that separated the steep lower wall from the massive icefields that led to the final buttress beneath the east peak. With growing concern, I saw them try one, then another and then a third route through the rock with no success. What appeared a minor obstacle from Base Camp was a vertical, compact wall. The ice runnels were too thin to climb and they had only two rock pitons. They descended to the top of the ramp and bivouacked for the last time on the face. I began my search at 9:30 the next morning at the point where they would have to cross the couloir at the bottom of the ramp. At ten they appeared and crossed the couloir, doubtless the end of the major dangers. I felt happy that I would be given a second chance to join them on the face. They moved to the crest of a small spur. When I looked again, there was only one dot, seemingly frozen on the slope. I knew immediately that there was only one explanation. When the remaining climber had descended out of sight, I ran back to Base, packed emergency gear and with Sherpa Pinjoo set out toward the face. Halfway up the ridge we spotted René descending alone. Alex had been killed instantly when a single stone that fell from high on the face hit him on the back of the head. He fell 1500 feet to below the bergschrund, where René buried him as best he could. Bad weather set in during the next few days and we could not return to the site. The loss of Alex MacIntyre in the same year as Joe Tasker and Pete Boardman has been a terrible blow to their friends and relatives and to the whole concept of alpine-style climbing. Alex was an especially accessible person. He was willing to help and advise climbers of any standard, an attribute which made him an effective National Officer during his days with the British Mountaineering Council. His climbing record was outstanding. He was a dedicated, inventive, composed mountaineer.

John Porter