Helen Spencer, E1993, shares her deeply personal story of pushing limits in a challenge to ski to the South Pole while facing grief, and credits the Benenden spirit of commitment and endurance in helping to overcome many challenges.
The katabatic wind howls across the vast expanse of the Polar Plateau; and with no mountains to halt it’s ferocious pace, it builds strength and volume as it travels. Out here you are vulnerable and insignificant. It is an inhospitable environment where humans do not belong. At 14 million square kilometres of pristine ice and snow, Antarctica is the largest desert in the world and makes up 90% of the world’s fresh water.
This is where I have yearned to visit for most of my life, after growing up reading about the antics of Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, and later avidly following the incredible feats of those exploring these regions within my lifetime; particularly Ranulph Fiennes and Henry Worsley.
Traditionally, famous Polar explorers are bearded men with the strength of 10 bears, and this is very obviously not me. It’s always been a very male dominated area of exploration and never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d ever get the opportunity to attempt an expedition to this region myself, or be capable of doing so. I had no idea how to even start.
But I was curious, so three years ago I enrolled in a Polar Skills Course in Finse, Norway; in the very place where all my polar heroes had trained. I spent a week in the snowy wilds learning to cross country ski while pulling a pulk (sledge), camping at -20C and learning how to pack/eat/navigate and survive in this environment. It was tough, and although I enjoyed the experience and steep learning curve – I vowed never to attempt it again. But the next year I was back for more, and however difficult I found it, the draw of Antarctica was STILL in my head and I couldn’t shake it. So, I signed up for an expedition to ski the last degree to the South Pole!
I had a year to prepare and boy did I need it! I was in rather poor physical and mental health at this point and sought help from PTs, physios, chiropractic, kit experts, and anyone who’d been in the polar environment before. I enrolled in a rigorous training regime that had me pulling tyres around the parks of London, hiking with heavy packs, lifting weights, enduring -60C cold chambers and cardio training sessions at simulated altitude. I spent most of the year either training, organising/borrowing/buying kit, sorting logistics…….or worrying about all of this!
In December 2024 I flew to the tip of Chile for last minute preparations and then on to our base camp at Union Glacier in Antarctica. A few days later we had a weather window for a small plane to fly us another four hours into the interior of Antarctica, to our starting point on the Polar Plateau at 89 degrees south, and 2800m altitude.
Watching the plane, our safety net, take off again and disappear into the sky, leaving my team of four in complete and utter solitude; 360 degrees of flat white around us, was a moment I’ll never forget.
We skied one behind the other, always into the wind so there was no way to communicate or chat. Every hour we stopped to eat, drink, catch up and then re-order our line so that someone else was navigating up front. This was repeated seven to nine times a day – Eat Sleep Ski Repeat.
The expedition was self sufficient, so we carried everything we would need in our pulks; food, tent, camping stove and fuel; communication equipment and clothing.
Camping at -30C is not quite as bad as you might think. There’s a method to it, and as long as you strictly adhere to the method and never take short cuts, it’s actually quite comfortable once you are inside the tent with the cooker on. To melt enough snow to rehydrate food and fill our drinking flasks could take 4-5 hours at this altitude, so this heats up the tent well for a cosy night in a warm sleeping bag.
The expedition was 120km and took eight days. The skiing was relentless and monotonous but also mesmerizing and cathartic. There is nothing to look at but the white expanse all around – so there is time to think and search inside yourself. Polar expeditions can be more of a mental battle than just an immense physical one, and personally this was what I found the toughest.
There were moments of utter beauty, such as a clear day when ice particles in the air formed a halo rainbow right around the sun. At other times there was a complete whiteout and the wind was terrifying. Without landmarks, there is no way to judge how far you’ve travelled which is disorientating; it’s rather like being inside a ping pong ball!
The temperature was around -30C most of the time, but thanks to being awarded the Benenden eXtend, eXcel, eXplore award, I was able to purchase specialist polar ski boots, heavy duty mittens and a balaclava – all of which kept me free from major frostbite injuries. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to the Committee, as these items literally kept me alive!
Our last day was brutal; a 26km day, 16 hours on our skis, but we finally reached the stunning silver orb of the South Pole. A moment that I have been dreaming of for most of my life. To reach this spot had taken every ounce of strength and determination from me, and was overwhelmingly emotional – there were great belly sobs and tears as I touched the Pole and held the Union Jack flag up; tears streaming down my face (and freezing instantly inside my goggles).
The South Pole is a desolate place, and as we celebrated, I couldn’t help but contemplate that we had reached it 113 years to the day after Captain Scott, which was incredibly poignant. There was no celebration for his team, as they found Amundsen’s flag already there; he had beaten them to the Pole by 33 days. Scott’s team then had to trudge all the way back to the coast, sadly perishing along the way of starvation, hypothermia and complete and utter disillusionment.
On a more personal note, this journey was not just about getting to the Pole. I put myself through this to push myself to the limits, which it did – but also as my own way of helping me with the horrid process of grief. In 2023 I lost both my parents in a tragic accident. I fell into rather a black hole, and decided that a positive step forward was to sign up to the most testing expedition of my life. I also fundraised for Parkinson’s UK – which my mum was living with and raised over £20k to be used for research into better methods and medications for people living with Parkinson’s now.
As a scientist I was keen to use the immense privilege of being somewhere so remote to help further scientific knowledge, so I signed up to the Global Atmospheric Plastic Survey. This involved collecting surface snow samples along our route to be tested for nano plastics, the results of which will be collated over the next few years.
My seven years at Benenden instilled in me a spirit of camaraderie, commitment, endurance and self sufficiency; these traits have helped me ever since with my career as a Vet and on previous expeditions; none more so that this one!
I would like to inspire future female explorers that anything is possible, even if your dream feels totally out of reach at present. Small steps can lead to big things, and it’s never too late to start. In contrast to the current need for instant gratification, this dream was within me for 40 years, and it then took over three years to train and prepare – but I can honestly say that achieving it feels far more meaningful than anything else I’ve ever done.
Helen Spencer E1993