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December « 2014 « The Polar Museum: news blog

The Polar Museum: news blog

Archive for December, 2014

Getting to know the Antarctic

Tuesday, December 16th, 2014

Health warning: this post contains detailed information about cataloguing and classifying and is not for the faint-hearted!

I’m six weeks into my job on the Antarctic Cataloguing Project at The Polar Museum and am finally starting to feel that I’m getting to grips with the project and all its different elements. I’ve been doing quite a bit of behind-the-scenes work and trialling of this and that – including devising a standard template for biographical records for people, organisations and expeditions so that this information doesn’t get repeated in individual object records; creating a term list for Arctic and Antarctic expedition names so that they always appear in the same format; and measuring and describing some of the 27 objects in the collection from the British Antarctic Expedition 1907–09 (Nimrod) and cross-referencing them with photographs from the expedition. I’ve concluded that a two-pronged approach to the project is probably the way forward – one driven by the objects and the other by the expeditions – and I hope the two will come together at some point! And I’m really hoping that, come the new year, I’ll be ready to get properly stuck in.

I’m also working on a standard template for object records, and am currently thinking about keywords – what sort of keywords have been used in the past, what keywords will be useful to us (internally), what keywords will be useful to the public (externally), and what’s the point of these keywords anyway? I’m struggling with the answers to the first three, but I think the reason we want to use keywords is that they provide quick and easy means of searching the collections and of grouping the objects together (whether it’s by expedition, place, object type, or a more nebulous type of theme etc.)

I’ve decided to focus in geographic keywords first, so I’ve been taking the time to get to know the Antarctic. I’ve been interested in the Antarctic for quite a few years but, to be honest, my geographic knowledge of the continent has never stretched much further than being able to point roughly in the direction of the South Pole and knowing where the Antarctic Peninsula is! So Step One was to get myself a map… much better!

wall map

My wall map.

Step Two was to try to understand how places in the Antarctic work – not only where they are, but how they are grouped together, and what the broader divisions/areas are, as well as the specific places. In short, is there some sort of hierarchy to Antarctic places – a polar equivalent of village, county, country? And I’ve discovered that the answer depends on the resources you use.

I’m a bit of a place-hierarchy obsessive, having spent the first year of my museum career on a cataloguing project which focussed on recording information about where objects were made, used and collected. Let’s imagine we have an object that was used here at The Polar Museum: we might know that it was used here, or we might know that it was used on Lensfield Road, or in Cambridge, or in Cambridgeshire, or in East Anglia or in England etc. This is why I love hierarchies – it’s great to be specific when you can, but in most cases you just don’t have enough information and need to be more generic. Another reason for favouring the generic is if an object has been used in several places in broadly the same area.

So I’ve been casting about to see whether there are any existing hierarchies of Antarctic place names and trying to understand how they work. While an existing hierarchy might not suit our needs exactly, it does mean that somebody has done the really hard part – structuring a hierarchy. In the past I’ve used the Getty Thesaurus of Geographic Place Names and while (to my surprise) it does list quite a lot of Antarctic places, most places are only linked to Antarctica rather than to any hierarchy…

And then I discovered the ‘Universal Decimal Classification for use in Polar Libraries’! Exciting stuff! (Well, it is to those of us who love classifying things). It’s has been in use at the Scott Polar Research Institute since 1945 (with updates over the years) and is also used by other polar libraries, and seems to be perfect for what we want. It’s already used by the SPRI Library, is being rolled out in the Archives, and has been used in some Museum’s Arctic object records, so it makes sense to use it for the Antarctic object records too, as it provides a way to tie the Institute’s collections together and enable searching across the collections. It has taken me a little while to figure out how it works though (hence all the scribbling).

My UDC annotated map

My UDC annotated map

Unfortunately Step Three (the tricky one) is still to come – to work out how to put this information into the object records. A numerical code or a numerical code and text version? Should it show just the narrowest level in the hierarchy to be used for that record, or should it show all the levels, or a set number of levels? And this thinking about how to represent hierarchies in the object records doesn’t just apply to geographic keywords – they’re also issues I’m going to have think about when recording materials more subject-based keywords.

Greta

PS I promise not all of my posts will be about cataloguing and classifying!

 

Men who sew: Part 3 – Birdie Bowers

Wednesday, December 10th, 2014

This is the last post in the series about men who sew, so I want to share one of my favourite objects in the collection – Birdie Bowers’ sledging flag.  Lieutenant Henry Bowers (known as Birdie because of his impressive nose) was on Scott’s Terra Nova expedition of 1910-13 and was one of the four who died with Scott in his tent in 1912.

p2005-5-1172-img  Bowers wearing his trademark hat.

Sledging flags are a curiously British tradition among Polar explorers.  They came into fashion in the mid nineteenth century and were used on sledges to identify the sledging parties and also to keep morale up.  During later expeditions each officer would have their own personal design.  Sir Clements Markham was very influential in the design of sledging flags.  He served on the Arctic Discovery expedition of 1875-6, and later became President of the Royal Geographical Society, where he was key in organising the 1901-4 Discovery expedition to Antarctica and launching Scott’s polar career.   Markham was a keen genealogist and he designed all the flags for the 1901-4 Discovery expedition.  The flags he designed are shaped like forked pennants.  Markham wrote “The knights of chivalry used flags (called standards) with the Cross of St George always at the hoist. This was to denote that, whatever family the bearer may belong to, he is first and foremost an Englishman”.  This is why many sledging flags show the cross of St George on the hoist side and the family crest and motto of the officer on the rest.

The sledging flags had great sentimental value for some officers.  In the 1901-4 Discovery expedition, Edward Wilson (who also died with Scott in 1912) had a flag which was made for him by his wife Oriana:

N274(2)

Wilson modified it by adding a black linen bandage tube so he could hoist it onto his ski pole, and he also made a little bag for it out of Burberry material to protect the silk and embroidery.  At one point in 1902 Wilson reported in his diary that Scott “has taken a dislike to his (own sledging flag) and says there will be no flags on the long southern journey.  I said I should certainly not go without mine if I had to sew it into my shirt”.  Scott said he could if he liked but that he himself wouldn’t “add weight for mere sentiment”!

For the Terra Nova expedition many officers followed tradition and had sledging flags made.  Wilson got a whole new one (although interestingly Oates never had one – a design was drawn up but the flag was never made.  He apparently didn’t share Wilson’s love of sledging flags).  Bowers also ordered one, but it was not finished in time, and the expedition had to sail without it.  Bowers was not put off and made his own:

N273(4)

I love this object because Bowers clearly tried so hard to get a good result even though he wasn’t used to doing fancy needlework:

bowers3

The flag is made from cream silk all in one piece, with added ribbon and blue edging.  The George Cross normally has a separate panel of fabric, but not in this case.  Perhaps the materials were not available.  Bowers embroidered his family crest (a pierced leg) and the motto “Esse quam videri” which means “To be, rather than to seem to be”.  (For trivia buffs, this is also the motto of the state of North Carolina in the USA!):

bowers4

The tassels on the flag both have a special knot known as a monkeys fist:

bowers2

This knot has special significance in sailing communities and symbolises comradeship, so as a naval man Bowers may well have used it deliberately.  Bowers had his flag with him at the South Pole and you can see it in the famous image of Scott’s party at the Pole:

p2005-5-1346-img

This is actually a “selfie”, because Bowers was holding the shutter release cable to take the shot!  He is sitting on the bottom left of the picture.  Next to him on the ground is Wilson, with Oates, Scott and Edgar Evans standing.  Behind the group is the Union Jack.  A small piece of this came back from the Pole and is now on display in our museum.  Behind Bowers the dark sledging flag is Wilson’s, the one in the middle is Scott’s and the one on the right is Bowers’.  Other photos of Bowers’ flag at base camp show that the red and blue have faded dramatically and the cream silk has got very yellow.  The small flag on the extreme left next to Oates is a silk one made by Teddy Evans’ wife to fly at the Pole.  Teddy Evans was not selected for the Polar party and was bitterly disappointed, so Bowers promised to fly his flag at the South Pole for him.  Edgar Evans (the tall one on the right) was not an officer so had no sledging flag.

Sledging flags used on the Terra Nova expedition are the subject of a new online virtual exhibition entitled “Stretched wings towards the South” which has just been launched.  There you can see images of our sledging flags and also many from other collections, as well as photos of them in use.  If you want to browse all the sledging flags in our collection, have a look at our online flags catalogue.

Sophie

Friday fun: rolling down to old Maui

Friday, December 5th, 2014

I’m working from home today, which means I have the luxury of being able to listen to music (and sing along very loudly) while I type! One of the tracks I keep coming back to is Old Maui, from The Works by Spiers and Boden:

The Spiers and Boden version is based on a whaling song from the 1850s called Rolling Down to Old Mohee. Unlike many other whaling songs from the period, this is not a work song. Instead, it tells of the sailors’ longing for home after a season catching bowhead whales in the “bold Kamchatka Sea” (now the Sea of Okhotsk).

Whaling was a thoroughly miserable business. The ships faced constant threats from storms and ice floes – and even from the whales themselves, who could capsize a vessel while thrashing around. If you were lucky enough to catch a whale, it had to be hauled onto the deck of the ship, skinned and rendered down into train oil (melted, purified blubber). This messy, stinking process was carried out in a giant metal cauldron called a try pot. We have a try pot from the Antarctic sealing industry right outside our building:

Y52_53

The third verse of Old Maui vividly expresses these hazards and hardships:

Through many a blow of frost and snow and bitter squalls of hail
Our spars were bent and our canvas rent as we braved the northern gale.
The cruel isles of ice-capped tiles that deck the Arctic sea
Are many, many leagues astern as we sail to old Maui.

After several months in the icy Siberian seas, the Hawaiian island of Maui, where ships were refitted at the end of the whaling season, must have seemed like a paradise. Another version of this song, by Jeff Warner, hints at attractions beyond the “green hills” and “coconut fronds”:

How soft the breeze from the island trees now the ice is far astern,
And them native maids and them island glades is awaiting our return.
Even now their big, black eyes look out hoping some fine day to see,
Our baggy sails running ‘fore the gales rolling down to old Maui.

(The “baggy sails” in the last line suggest gentle tropical breezes rather than stormy gales.)

I’m particularly taken by this song because it reminds me of several objects in the Polar Museum. We have a collection of prints from 1856, taken from drawings made during a journey across eastern Siberia in 1852. The drawings date from the same time as Rolling Down to Old  Mohee and show some of the places and people that the whalers might have encountered:

kamchatka

kamchatka2

“Le port de st pierre et paul au kamtchatka”, N:1230/28 (top) and “Kamtchadals, une halte en hiver”, N:1230/23 (bottom), Scott Polar Research Institute

A more modern view of this region was given in a recent exhibition in the Polar Museum, which showed photographs from the Siberian port of Magadan.

I’m also reminded of our large collection of scrimshaw, decorative whalebone objects that were made by people involved with the whaling industry. Whaling expeditions were long and tedious and some sailors spent their free time carving and engraving whalebone. Many pieces of scrimshaw show images of whaling and maritime warfare, but others show exotic scenes from foreign countries or wistful images of home. I’ve chosen the piece below because it dates from the 1850s (the same time as Rolling Down to Old Mohee), but also because it it has a more humorous image than most. One side shows a woman caught in a storm that has blown her umbrella away – perhaps the sailor who made it is contrasting the “bitter blasts” of the Kamchatka Sea with a blustery day back home?

scrimshaw

Whale tooth, Y: 62/15/5, Scott Polar Research Institute

Christina