The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - The Telegraph Magazine
Boy’s Own hero: John Blashford-Snell, last of the great adventurers
From navigating deadly African rivers to transporting a grand piano to an Amazon jungle chief, Col John Blashford-Snell’s life has been the stuf of Boy’s Own adventures – and at 79, he’s not fnished yet. Jessamy Calkin meets a remarkable explorer. Photogr
In the functions room of the Coppleridge Inn in Dorset in October last year, an auspicious occasion is taking place: the 40th-anniversary reunion of the Zaire River expedition. Zaire (now known as Democratic Republic of Congo) is the size of western Europe, and its river is the second longest on Earth, at 2,900 miles. The expedition, which marked the centenary of Henry Morton Stanley’s original voyage to discover the source of the Nile 100 years earlier, was led by Col John Blashford-Snell, OBE.
Blashford-Snell, a tall man with a flawless complexion in a tweed suit, greets me warmly. ‘Come and meet some of these other idiots,’ he says. Considerable efort has gone into tracking down the members of the expedition, and John Chapman Smith and his wife have fown in from New Zealand. Richard Snailham, expedition chronicler and historian, in his Congo hat and original yellow expedition T-shirt stands out among the milling navy-blue blazers and ties. ‘Splendid biccies,’ says Mike Gambier, who was Blashford-Snell’s second-in-command, proffering a plate of chocolate shortbreads.
The Zaire River expedition was three years in the preparation, and Blashford-Snell not only led it but also raised the funds (‘Rather like going into battle but with the added worry of raising money to buy ammunition’). It involved three giant inflatable rafts, one Beaver aircraft, two water-jet crafts, eight Land Rovers and six Range Rovers, and a team that numbered 165: biologists, botanists, eye specialists, engineers, interpreters; men and women of all nationalities including young Zairean servicemen. Its main
‘I always say, if an elephant charges you, make sure your wife is in the front’ Col John Blashford-Snell at his home and operations base in Dorset
purpose was to investigate the causes of river blindness. They had many sponsors, including the
Telegraph, which sent a journalist and photographer along. (The paper also fnanced Stanley’s original trip in 1874. Those were the days.)
Blashford-Snell was later awarded (by the Royal Automobile Club) the Segrave trophy for demonstrating, together with his comrades, ‘how the display of courage, initiative and skill, the spirit of adventure itself, can assist in the development of transport by air, land and water.’
The trip lasted three months. There were terrifying incidents involving rapids, hippos and whirlpools the size of football fields. Neil Rickard, a Royal Marines corporal, rescued one of the rafts from the centre of a whirlpool ‘like a wall of death’, an act of bravery that later won him the Queen’s Gallantry Medal. There were some close calls: half of the team sufered with one thing or another – malaria, dysentery, hepatitis – and Roger Chapman nearly died of peritonitis and had to be whisked to hospital in Kisangani on a commandeered DC-6 aircraft. Unlike Stanley ’s original expedition, however, the team encountered no cannibals; the Zaireans they met were friendly and helpful, and the regular invocation of President Mobutu’s name seemed to aford them a certain amount of protection.
The reunion is a high-spirited afair, and there is much afection for Blashford-Snell. ‘He is a great communicator with great vision,’ says Pam Coleridge, a nurse on the trip. ‘I don’t know anyone else who could have pulled an expedition like that of. And he was one of the frst to take women along.’ ‘He’s a natural leader,’ says Snailham, himself an explorer who has been a close collaborator of Blashford-Snell’s since 1965, and who had the original idea for the trip, then subsequently wrote a book about it. ‘He can deal with all the logistics and he’s unflappable.’
There are drinks and lunch, then a screening of a flm they made of the expedition. The Telegraph’s Hugh Davies appears on screen, at his typewriter, long-haired, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. ‘I was constantly having to remind them about turnout,’ Blashford-Snell wrote of the trip in his book. ‘The problem is that with the scientists bearded and long-haired, it was difcult to enforce…’ There is nothing sloppy about Blashford-Snell’s turnout: in the flm he presides over proceedings with his familiar straight-backed stance, in pith helmet and khakis. The only diference being the thick dark hair and a pencil moustache. ‘Don’t underestimate the river,’ he barks to the camera. ‘Bad rapids approaching…’
The indefatigable Col John Blashford-Snell is one of our great explorers and, most importantly, he inspires others to explore, particularly the young. Next year – his 80th – he’s of to Mongolia, to follow up reported sightings of the Almas (a Yeti-like creature) in a trip that will involve archaeology and botany, to Colombia to help the Wiwa tribe, and to Burma (this one is still in the planning). Something else may well come up. In his time he has led many celebrated expeditions, including crossing the Darién Gap in a Range Rover – 250 miles of swamp, jungles and mountain between Panama and Colombia. He has descended the Blue Nile, taken a grand piano to a chief in the Amazon jungle on a mahogany sledge (and then returned two years later to tune it), driven from Alaska to Patagonia, and sailed from Bolivia to the Atlantic in the steps of Norwegian adventurer Thor Heyerdahl. He has been on the trail of one of the largest known elephant tuskers, Raja Gaj, in Nepal; helped with conservation of the spectacled bear in Peru; scanned Loch Ness for the monster; and tracked a 20ft ‘dragon’ in Papua New Guinea.
The regular invocation of President Mobutu’s name seemed to aford them a certain amount of protection
It was he who instigated the youth projects Operation Drake and Operation Raleigh, under the patronage of the Prince of Wales, and started, in 1969, the Scientifc Exploration Society (SES), one of the longest-running exploration organisations in the world.
He has been awarded the Livingstone Medal and the Patron’s Medal, and is the author of 15 books and a wonderful autobiography, Something Lost Behind
the Ranges (a quote from Kipling), which contains asides such as, ‘My ear drum had burst – it was a wretched nuisance.’
At 1100 hours on a crisp autumn day, I report to Expedition Base at Motcombe in Dorset, which is where Blashford-Snell lives with his lovely wife Judith, and from where he runs his activities. The house is festooned with memorabilia from his adventures: the tusk of a giant dugong, Stanley’s original compass, and a display table containing such treasures as the back end of a Katyusha 122mm rocket that was fred at him in Oman. In the downstairs loo are photographs of Blashford-Snell with Prince Charles at the launch of Operation Raleigh, with President Mobutu in Zaire, and with Haile Selassie in Ethiopia. The adjoining barn houses the Blashford- Snell ftness centre: an ancient cross-trainer on which he puts in an hour a day to keep himself in shape, while watching wildlife documentaries on an even more ancient VHS player.
Next to the house is SES HQ, which is run by volunteers – ladies of a certain age whom he calls ‘the girls’. There is Anne, his PA; and Shirley, whose remit includes persuading local ladies to knit teddy bears, which the expeditioners give to children in exchange for removing their rotten teeth. Dave Smith, retired from the prison service, is now the honorary logistics ofcer, and (retired) Capt Jim Masters looks after the archive. From here Blashford-Snell does his charity work: among the many organisations he is involved with is Just A Drop, which installs wells and sanitation all over the world and of which he is honorary president, and Trinity Sailing Trust, a foundation in Devon that takes underprivileged children sailing.
The walls of his ofce are covered in plans, maps and photographs. There are pictures of double-nosed dogs and fossils of monster snakes found in Colombia, and a sign saying president mobutu above his desk. An ancient computer is balanced on top of a 1998 volume of the Yellow Pages and a book entitled Bats of the Indian Subcontinent.
He points out where he is going in Colombia – he will be taking a biologist, doctors and dentists on the expedition to fnd out how the Wiwa can be helped (‘if the terrorists stop killing each other over there, that is’). The Wiwa have asked him to teach them how to use a video camera to record their culture before it dies out. And Newport Uskmouth Rotary Club has paid for a school to be built there. ‘As we speak, mules are staggering uphill with bags of cement.’
Over lunch, Blashford-Snell reminisces fondly about the time he was nearly pulverised by an elephant in Zambia. He was with Judith and a ranger. They had been looking at a peaceful little herd at close quarters when the Land Rover stalled in a gulley and a very angry bull elephant came roaring out of nowhere. ‘He came straight at us but the driver revved his engine and the elephant stopped about fve yards away. I started to take pictures, and we got an amazing shot. Judith was actually even closer than I was. I always say, if an elephant charges you, make sure your wife is in the front. Like some butter with that?’
Judith demurs good-naturedly. She may have heard this story before.
‘Taken of guard, I couldn’t think of anything to say to a couple of inefcient bandits. So I ofered them a Mars bar’
Blashford-Snell met Judith when he was still at Sandhurst; she was in the women’s ofcer-training unit. She had an exam coming up – in topography. ‘She said, “I’m hopeless at reading maps and if I fail I’m going to be thrown out.” I said, “Oh I’m free this weekend, I’ll come and help.” I had a red sports car and a map and compass so I took her of to the woods near Hindhead.’ She passed the exam and they were married in 1960 and have two daughters (Victoria is a well-known cook, Emma is a nurse).
Blashford- Snell grew up in Jers ey and Herefordshire, where his father was a rector. His mother had a way with animals, and as a boy he was surrounded by horses, donkeys, cows, dogs, cats, foxes, tortoises, budgerigars, and his constant companion, a monkey called Jacko, an ex-regimental mascot that his father brought home. The family also had an enormous St Bernard called Brutus, which weighed over 11 stone and on whose back BlashfordSnell would ride, with a saddle, when he was small.
He was a sickly child – hard to believe now – who sufered constantly from asthma, later discovering he was allergic to cats. (His mother had 28 of them.) He led a Just William- type existence, displaying an early talent for leadership when he formed a small private army who would bravely defend Hereford from the Hun. They constructed a makeshift cannon mounted on an old invalid carriage, and captured members of rival gangs, who they would bind hand and foot. ‘We had a couple of fairly staunch girls who were known as the torturers and their job was to deal with the people who had stolen the vicarage apples.’
Blashford-Snell’s grandfather was a sea captain from Jersey, and it is Jersey that he thinks of as home. (He carries its fag with him on all his expeditions.) In 1950 he attended secondary school there, at Victoria College, and spent his time exploring the island’s tunnels and scouring its coastline in pursuit of the great grey conger eel. He joined the Combined Cadet Force at school, and volunteered with the TA in the holidays. He drove a Triumph motorcycle then a boneshaking old BSA sports car, which he nicknamed ‘rigor mortis’. don’t laugh, madam, your daughter may be inside read a notice on the boot.
He went to Sandhurst, then joined the Royal Engineers (the ‘Sappers’), returning to Sandhurst as adventure training ofcer, to run expeditions in the Army. ‘My job was to go around the world and fnd things for these youngsters to do, and then send them of there: “Go of to Iran and look for the valley of the assassins” – that sort of thing.’ He was in the regular Army for 37 years, and stayed on as a consultant. ‘They were wonderful times because the Army were very kind to me. They would give me time of between tours to go on expeditions.’ His job, they told him to his delight, was to explore – in peace and war, to build roads, railways, cross mountains. ‘As an engineer – so long as I took some of the soldiers with me and they benefited, it was fne. So that’s how we ran expeditions like the Nile.’
The Blue Nile expedition in 1968 was the most dangerous one he has ever undertaken, mainly because the team were all learning on the job. They were the frst to negotiate white-water rapids (in a way that has now been adopted as a worldwide sport), and they were held hostage by armed tribesmen. One of the team, Ian Macleod, died after being swept away. The description of the trip in his book is hair-raising, but typically offset by lines like, ‘Taken of guard, I couldn’t think of anything to say to a couple of inefcient bandits. So I ofered them a Mars bar.’
After the Nile expedition, Blashford-Snell founded the SES, of which he is still president. The aim is ‘to foster and encourage scientifc exploration worldwide’. To date it has initiated over 200 expeditions, all pretty much unique and all involving community aid. These days the projects are slightly less ambitious but none the less daunting – for example, late last year Blashford-Snell took a party of 21 to Manas National Park in Assam, on the border of Bhutan, to conduct an elephant survey (riding on domestic elephants but counting the number of wild ones), as well as helping the local people. Anyone can apply to join him on these expeditions – an 82-year-old went with them to Costa Rica. ‘You just have to be reasonably ft and preferably have something useful to ofer’ – for example, a medical skill.
Even by Blashford-Snell’s very high standards, one of his most colourful trips was the Guyana piano expedition in 2000. It began, like all good adventures, over lunch with an old chum. ‘Fellow called Joe Singh, who became a commander
They were the frst to negotiate white-water rapids… and they were held hostage by armed tribesmen
‘The chief priest said, “When you come back could you do me a favour and bring me a grand piano?” It turned out he had seen a picture of one, and thought that it would be good for the young members of the tribe’
of the Guyana Defence Force. He said, we’ve got trouble with this tribe who live in the southern part of the country; they desperately need medical help – do you think the SES can get together an expedition and bring some doctors and dentists out?’ So of they went. The Wai Wai had had very little contact with the outside world apart from a few evangelist missionaries who had converted them to Christianity and built a church in the middle of their village. ‘After about two weeks we were about to leave when the chief priest said, “When you come back could you do me a favour and bring me a grand piano?”’ It turned out he’d seen a picture of one, and thought that it would be good for the younger members of the tribe, many of whom were musical, but had little to do.’
When they returned to England, Blashford-Snell, who is an accomplished speaker, gave a talk about the trip at a hotel in the West End, and as a sort of joke at the end said, ‘And, by the way, they want a grand piano.’
‘And to my horror,’ he tells me now, ‘the general manager of the hotel shouted out from the back, “I’ll give you a grand piano.” So we got together an expedition.’ The trip was filmed by the BBC, and the piano – packed in a huge box – duly travelled by plane as far as Trinidad, then on a small freight plane to Guyana. ‘There we had to make a sledge for it, and we’d arranged for 100 Indians to meet us at the airstrip because it would take some efort to carry this thing. When we arrived there were only six of them. So there we were in the middle of nowhere with a grand piano and six Indians. We stuck it on this sledge and began pulling. It was horrendous. There were ravines and bridges – it was impossible. Luckily we had Jim Masters with us.’
With Masters going ahead doing recces, they arrived at a village where there was a very big canoe and decided the only way to take the piano further was on the river. The village children jumped in as well, and after miraculously surviving some rapids, the whole party arrived at a creek where, fnally, the 100 Indians were waiting to meet them. ‘They hadn’t believed we would come so they hadn’t bothered to turn up. But they picked up the piano and carried it up the hill and we all sang the Royal Engineers song, got to the church, put the piano down and opened up the box.’ On the expedition was an ex-Army doctor who knew how to tune pianos and who was also a choirmaster; he taught the children to play. The expedition was a success, and the documentary was shown all over the world. As a result, an American conservation society came up with $2 million and turned the whole area into a protected zone. ‘The warriors became rangers and it was really the making of this tribe.’
Blashford-Snell is dedicated to helping young people, especially those who are disadvantaged. In 1978, in conjunction with Prince Charles, he established Operation Drake, a roundthe-world voyage with one land and nine oceanbased phases for people aged 17-24. Operation Raleigh followed, which took more than 4,000 people across 27 countries, and continues today as Raleigh International.
Then, in the wake of the urban riots of 1981, he set up a special Army unit in the Scottish Highlands, named the Fort George Volunteers, designed to give the young a greater sense of purpose. The idea began when, at Prince Charles’s suggestion, Blashford-Snell and Sgt Major David Taylor spent an evening with some ‘Rastafarians from Wandsworth’. He relates the events in his book as follows.
‘You from the fuzz?’ hissed a dreadlocked West Indian. ‘These guys is in the Army,’ said his pal. ‘What you do there?’ spat the questioner, pushing his face closer to mine. ‘We kill people,’ said the sergeant major quietly. There was a short pause and then a roar of laughter. ‘That’s great, man. Let’s have a drink.’
Nowadays Blashford-Snell’s youth work is largely restricted to the Merseyside Youth Association and the Moorlands Community Development Project in Brixton, a charity devoted to supporting children. They are brought to the countryside in a bus, or he goes to visit them in Brixton. The mind boggles. What does he do with them?
‘I listen, really. And ask questions. You have to try and work out the best way of how to go about solving their problems. Sometimes they want to do a drawing of you. One of them gave me a massage last time, nearly killed me. A marvellous lady called Dorothy Bell runs the charity and she is always looking for a permanent base, and that’s my long-term ambition: to fnd them a building they can call their own.’
In addition to all his philanthropic roles, BlashfordSnell is president of the Vole Club. ‘I was strimming the grass and almost strimmed a vole and it leapt into the pond – that’s how I discovered we had lots of them.’ A vole appreciation society was established. ‘We formed this little dining club. In the summer we had a meeting by the pond here and we put up a marquee and everyone arrived in ancient blazers and straw hats and greeted each other with cries of “Ja vole!” and a certain amount of champagne was drunk. Then this chap arrived and said, “I’m the county conservation ofcer,” so we showed him the pond. He walked in and eventually emerged covered in mud and said, “It’s true, you have got voles here, the frst I’ve seen in North Dorset.” He persuaded us to be serious about it and we started to raise funds. I got a letter from a solicitor whose client had left us £3,000 so we bought 100 baby voles in Kent, transported them to a river in Devon – and they’re thriving!’
Expeditions are not what they were, but their continued importance cannot be overstated. Introducing Blashford-Snell at last year’s SES Explorer Awards, Pen Hadow said, ‘It is now more important than ever to natural history that we are involved with exploration, and I’d like to salute John: he has put nearly 50,000 people through his exploration programmes – selected not through A-levels but through initiative and drive. Very few explorers have inspired so many.’ Sir Ranulph Fiennes added, ‘Join Blashers and you will age slowly…’ Col John Blashford-Snell: one of the last of his kind. Give the man a knighthood.
Something Lost Behind the Ranges is available (autographed) from the Scientifc Exploration society for £12.50 plus £3 p&p; ses-explore.org