Robert Falcon Scott

Hello, my name is Robert Falcon Scott, and I was an explorer with a very big dream. My story begins in England, where I was born on June 6th, 1868. Even as a boy, I was drawn to the great wide ocean. The idea of adventure called to me, and I knew my life would be spent exploring the world's mysteries. Instead of a typical childhood, I wanted to be at sea. So, when I was just 13 years old, I made a big decision and joined the Royal Navy. I trained hard to become an officer, learning all about sailing, navigation, and leading a crew. It was the first step on a path that would take me farther than I could have ever imagined, to the most remote and challenging places on our planet.

My desire for adventure eventually led me to the coldest, windiest, and most mysterious place on the entire globe: Antarctica. In 1901, I was chosen to lead my very first expedition to this vast, icy continent. We called it the Discovery Expedition, and it lasted until 1904. Our ship was a strong, wooden vessel named the Discovery, built specially to push through the thick sea ice. For three years, my crew and I lived in this frozen world. We mapped coastlines that no one had ever seen before and traveled deep into the continent's interior. We also conducted many important scientific experiments, studying the weather, the ice, and the unique animals that lived there. We learned so much about Antarctica, and it only made me more curious to uncover its remaining secrets.

After returning from my first journey, a new, even bigger challenge began to form in my mind. The ultimate prize for any explorer at the time was to be the first person to stand at the South Pole, the southernmost point on Earth. In 1910, I set off on my second great Antarctic journey, this time sailing on a ship called the Terra Nova. Our mission was clear and our spirits were high. It was an exciting time, but I soon learned I was not alone in this dream. Another explorer, a determined man from Norway named Roald Amundsen, had the same goal. Suddenly, it became a great race. It was a race against him and a race against the brutal Antarctic winter. We carefully planned our route and our supplies. We brought strong Siberian ponies we thought could withstand the cold, innovative motor sledges for speed, and teams of dogs to pull our sleds, all to help us succeed.

The trek to the Pole was one of the most difficult journeys a person could imagine. The Antarctic weather was far harsher than we had anticipated, with raging blizzards and temperatures so low they could freeze a person in minutes. Our equipment began to fail us. The engines on our motor sledges cracked in the extreme cold, and the ponies, which were not suited for such conditions, struggled and could not go on. This meant my team and I had to do the hardest work ourselves. We strapped on harnesses and began pulling our own heavy sleds, filled with food and supplies, for hundreds of miles. It was exhausting work, but we were determined. Finally, on January 17th, 1912, my four brave companions and I reached the South Pole. We had made it. But our joy turned to bitter disappointment. There, fluttering in the icy wind, was a Norwegian flag. Roald Amundsen and his team had arrived before us.

Seeing that flag was a heavy blow, but we turned back for the long journey home. The Antarctic weather was brutal, and sadly, my team and I did not survive. I lived to be 43 years old. Our story, however, was not lost. A search party later found our camp and the detailed journals I had kept. In those pages, I told the world about our difficult journey, our important scientific discoveries, and our courage in the face of incredible hardship. Today, I hope people remember me and my brave crew for our determination and for helping the world understand the amazing, frozen continent of Antarctica.