Henry Worsley was a descendant of Frank Worsley, the New Zealander whose heroic feat of navigation 100 years ago saved Sir Ernest Shackleton's trans-Antarctic expedition from catastrophe.
Henry Worsley, a 55-year-old former Army officer from London, died after succumbing to infection 71 days in to his attempt to become the first adventurer to cross Antarctica unassisted.
In November 2015 Andrew Stone got an insight into his 2037km solo trek and the elements Worsley was dealing with just weeks into the endeavor. Here is that story:
Down in the Antarctic, all alone save for his playlist, Henry Worsley is making uneven progress.
A few days ago, his voice muffled as it carried over the satellite phone, he seemed slightly exasperated as he recounted a day "stuck in-between the down" in his tent while bitterly cold, 70km/h winds buffeted his little shelter.
"I don't have to look outside to gauge the weather because I can hear it battering the tent and the spindrift snow sliding past with a hiss."
He dozed, listened to music, chewed on a pecan mix with honey and nut biscuits and waited for a break in the weather.
He hunkered down, in the end, for 48 hours, cocooned in his "eight by five orangey-red tunnel".
The enforced sleepover was "a salutary reminder of just who is in control around here. Trespassers will be punished."
A veteran of two Antarctic missions, Worsley knew that sooner or later the elements would conspire against him. Pitching his tent as the wind whipped round him had taken an hour, rather than the usual 15 minutes. He reported that he was hampered by the loss of feeling in a hand, which only returned once he got inside.
"It was inevitable the weather would stop me at some stage," he said in a call to his logistics base at Union Glacier in the southern Ellsworth Mountains near the Weddell Sea.
An Antarctic trip, he conceded, "wouldn't be the same without a good storm".
Still it was a bore, he complained, because "one wants to get on and cover some miles".
He was eager to get cracking, having set himself seven days to cover one degree of latitude -- about 110 km -- and get closer to the South Pole. He has eight more degrees to go.
"The delay's not too much of a setback just yet."
The explorer started his ambitious 2037km solo trek across the icecap on November 13. His route takes him from the Ronne Ice Shelf up Wujek Ridge past the Pensacola Mountains to the geographic South Pole. From there it's a right turn out towards the Ross Ice Shelf, via the Shackleton Glacier.
In a shrinking era of firsts, Worsley wants to be the first to complete an unsupported and unassisted Antarctic crossing.
That means no kites to pull his 150kg sledge and no food or fuel dumps along the way. Just Worsley, his thoughts, his music (he has lots of Bowie, Dylan, The Doors, Johnny Cash) and the knowledge that he's got supplies for about 80 days.
He expects one of the toughest bits will be resisting the smell of aviation fuel and fried food at the Pole itself, home at this time of year to about 150 scientists and support staff at the Amundsen-Scott Station.
The rules of his mission forbid him from fast food temptations -- a test the retired British Army officer has the DNA to handle.
The name Worsley should ring an Antarctic bell. The 55-year-old is a descendant of Frank Worsley, the New Zealander whose heroic feat of navigation 100 years ago saved Sir Ernest Shackleton's trans-Antarctic expedition from catastrophe.
Shackleton made the Akaroa-born Worsley captain of his expedition ship Endurance. The ship's mission was to thrust into the Weddell Sea ice floes, from where a land party would cross the frozen continent via the South Pole and join the Aurora, the expedition's other ship on the Ross Sea side of Antarctica -- the route Henry Worsley is following.
Shackleton's planned crossing was the last major Antarctic prize left after Roald Amundsen's team won the race to the South Pole in December 1911.
But pack ice clamped the Endurance in a frozen vice, and the ship was abandoned in October 1915.
It was slowly crushed, finally sinking on November 21 -- a date Henry Worsley called "auspicious" when he called his base last Saturday evening.
Reflected Worsley: "What an awful feeling it must have been for her crew to witness that and to know that their survival was now in doubt.
"I spent many an hour today contemplating what it must have been like being marooned in their camp having seen the wreckage disappear."
Frank Worsley, in his account of the ship's demise, told how two ice floes squeezed the life out of the vessel, buckling its sides like a concertina: "It gave me the horrible impression that the ship was gasping for breath," he wrote.
"It was a heartbreaking sight to see the brave little ship, that had been our home for so long, broken up by the remorseless onward sweep of a thousand miles of pack ice. To see her crushed, and know that we could do nothing whatever to help her, was as bad as watching a chum go out."
Worsley's role in ensuring the survival of Shackleton's party has become the stuff of legend.
For five months, the 28 men drifted on sea ice until they reached Elephant Island, a desolate and uninhabited spot 250km off the Antarctic Peninsula.
Realising there was no hope of rescue, Shackleton instructed Worsley to take a six-man party some 1300km to a whaling station in South Georgia on an open 6m boat, the James Caird.
Worsley's skill in the unimaginable conditions was the difference between life and death. In what has been described as "an astonishing feat of navigation", he reached South Georgia with only four sightings over the 16-day journey.
A century later, this is naturally a big year for Shackleton re-runs. Six expeditions are planned, all with different ambitions. Four trips are solo affairs.
In October, a five-member party assembled by the Christchurch-based Antarctic Heritage Trust followed the route Shackleton, Worsley and Tom Crean took over South Georgia in an arduous 36-hour slog to raise the alarm for the crew marooned on Elephant Island.
Tom MacTavish, one of the trust's group of "inspiring explorers", said: "It's a really worthwhile thing to honour and remember those explorers."
MacTavish, from Moeraki near Oamaru, thought it appropriate that a descendant of Worsley had embarked in the footsteps of Shackleton in Antarctic.
"Worsley was the unsung hero of the expedition. If it wasn't for Frank Worsley's navigation skills they probably would not have survived."
In the Antarctic, 520m up the Wujek Ridge, Henry Worsley's tent fever is -- for now at least -- over. He reported on Thursday that he was on the move.
"I simply had to get going," he told his base. Even then it took three hours to carefully dig his tent out a snowdrift.
The wind hadn't let up, he said, and was strong enough "to carry off a dog".
In an eight-and-a-half-hour day, he slogged uphill for 12.1 nautical miles (22.4km) before stopping for the night on blue ice.
He used food bags to anchor his tent, and observed that the climb ahead "looks pretty steep".
Yesterday morning Worsley reported by satellite phone that he had dragged himself up the ridge. He did four relays in atrocious conditions.
After a "full-on battle" he got into his tent while the wind raged outside and the temperature fell to -18C. "It's a relief to be at 3200ft and heading south," he declared.
Worsley says a benefit of being alone is having clarity around decisions. "I won't have someone to say 'shall we go on, shall we take a break?'."
But equally he won't have a partner should things go wrong.
On Wednesday his personal locator beacon gave up, which put an end to tracking his progress on his website.
Not that a technical hitch would worry the former soldier. Asked before he left about the lessons he had stored up from his two previous expeditions, Worsley told explorersweb.com: "Be bold. Be ambitious. Try something you could fail at."
• 7am: Loo, breakfast and a hot drink made from boiled snow. The freeze-dried food menu rolls over every eight day. The "all-day" starter is a mixture of sausage, egg and bacon. The toilet stop is a challenge. "Essentially it's digging a hole and you do it very quickly."
• 9am: Set off on Norwegian skis, with a skin under the blades for ice slopes and sastrugi fields - low frozen bumps. Around his neck, Henry Worsley wears a compass. In the right mood he'll listen to music. His playlist runs to 932 songs.
• 5-6pm: Stop for the evening. More freeze-dried for dinner with dessert.
• A sample: chicken carbonara followed by chocolate and orange rice. Call base, check gear, recharge solar batteries. Upload audio message to website, and an image or two. Worsley's safety plan hinges on his regular calls. If he misses two, a search will be launched.
• Worsley's weigh-inFood: 74.7kg
• Drink powder: 19.4kg
• Fuel and fuel cans: 23kg
• Tent: 3kg
• Equipment: 15.6kg
• Clothing: 11.6kg
• Total: 147.3 kg
The boy’s family and friends came together this week to farewell him at his home.