Explorers - Barrington

The three are wrecks of humanity. No one could believe the human frame could be so reduced. Their cheekbones, nose — besides the elbows, hips and other parts of the body — were protruding through the skin. Barrington, who had had the best boots, has suffered the worst from being frostbitten, and all his flesh has eaten from the tops of his toes.

– Mr Bell, owner of a local station, describes the state of the explorers after farm workers find them crossing the property

May 9th. I don’t know what to do now. I’m completely jammed in. I cannot move. Snow falling thick and fast. Nothing to eat, and fearfully cold. May 10th. Two feet six inches solid snow by my tent. Turned into my wet blankets again for another nights misery. May 12th. Looks very bad. Cannot get out of the tent. I’ve had one little duck to eat in the last six days. This will not do much longer.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal, when Barrington was trapped, alone, by Stag Pass

May 6th. Still raining with snow mixed. Could not sleep last night, my teeth cracking together all night with cold, and cramp in my legs. The rats stole my little duck which I intended for this days food. This is the first day I have been heartily sick of the country. Nothing to eat, cannot light a fire, all my clothes and blankets wet. I am indeed miserable.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal, at this point had lost his two fellow explorers

There was nothing for it but to desert my swag or die here. I threw away everything but my blankets, gun and a little power and shot. Among the things I abandoned was a couple of specimens which we got in the little river, and a small parcel of gold which we found in Prospect Hill.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal, as Barrington finds the courage to continue

Barrington then says that they spent a cold, wet night on the stones. Their stamina, fortitude and perseverance beggars belief!

– Presenter Peter Elliott at the dangerous Olivine Gorge

In truth, they could have perished at any time on the journey home. All three were starving and frostbitten. Barrington was now wearing blankets to replace his rotten clothes.

– Presenter Peter Elliott

What unknown affinity lies between mountain and sea in country crumpled like an unmade bed whose crumbs may be nuggets as big as your head and it’s all snow sheeted but storm cloud fed? Far behind is the blue Pacific and Tasman somewhere ahead. Wet or dry, low or high, somewhere — in the blanket fold of the land — lies the golden strand.

– Presenter Peter Elliot reads a passage from Denis Glover poem Arawata Bill

I am NOT loving this.

– Presenter Peter Elliott in a very muddy valley

April 13th: Turned out early. Still raining. Killed a robin and three wrens. Roasted them. The smallest joints I ever saw. Very lucky this day…

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal

April 12: Continued to rain all day. No game. Consequently, nothing to eat. Here was the first place our dog turned traitor to our cause. When we took him in the bush to hunt for kākāpō — which is our chief food — he would go and catch one, stop, eat it, then he would not hunt any more for us.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal, a time where the team of three couldn't move for a week due to weather

April 7. We did not get enough gold to entice us to stop, as we believe there was better gold farther to the north-east.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal

April 6th. Some fine looking beaches. Soft bottom. Could get gold almost anywhere. Secured two very handsome specimens.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal

Just below Stag Pass, Barrington reached the end of his endurance. He had only one throw of the dice left, and his absolute determination, his sheer force of will take over. He made a decision that would save his life, but would throw doubt on the truth of his story.

– Presenter Peter Elliott in Stag Pass, the place where Alpheus Barrington had almost lost all hope

June 5th. My feet are in an awful mess, and nothing to put on them but Māori hen fat. I do not think we shall be able to get over. We are three skeletons, just alive.

– John Leigh reading a passage from Alpheus Barringtons' journal that describes the conditions of their living at the time