All language subtitles for Ocean.to.Sky.2019.WEBRip.x264-ION10

(ATMOSPHERIC MUSIC)

(BRIGHT, RISING MUSIC)

(GENTLE FLUTE MUSIC)

♪ Om...

♪ namah Shivaya.

(GENTLE FLUTE MUSIC)

♪ Om...

♪ namah Shivaya.

(PENSIVE SITAR MUSIC)

♪ Om...

♪ namah Shivaya. ♪

What an incredible
journey we were on.

India was flowing by.

We were halfway
through the journey.

The Himalayas were
still out in front.

But what had happened
in the past

was still very heavily
upon our hearts.

(HAUNTING FLUTE MUSIC)

(FLAMES CRACKLE)

(RISING MUSIC)

And in a more distant past,
two big moments

really had combined
to bring us here.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(MUSIC SWELLS)

In 1953, Mt Everest was first
climbed by Tenzing Norgay

and my father, Edmund Hillary.

In that same year,
in New Zealand,

a radical new kind of
boat was invented -

the jet boat - a boat
that blasts up rapids,

propelled and steered
simply by a jet of water.

(ENGINE ROARS)

In these boats,
my father, you know,

climber of the Himalayas'
greatest mountain,

would also try to be
the first to climb

the Himalayas' greatest
river, the Ganges.

(RISING MUSIC)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(ENGINE ROARS)

(BELL RINGS)

(SOLEMN CHANTING)

For my father and I, though,

the journey would be
deeply personal -

for the turbulence
of the rapids we faced

would be nothing to the
turbulence of our recent past.

You know, really,
for my father and for me,

we were on a pilgrimage -

not just a Hindu pilgrimage
up the river,

but one of, uh,

trying to deal with the losses
of my mother and sister.

(POIGNANT CHORAL MUSIC)

And on this journey,
on his final climb,

my father, too, would
stare death in the face.

I'd lost my mother and sister.

Here I was high in
the Himalayas again.

Was I about to lose
my father as well?

(BREATHES HEAVILY)

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

(ENGINE ROARS)

(LAUGHTER)

(UPBEAT MUSIC)

And yet, for
the rest of his life,

Dad always said
that this was the best,

the most memorable
expedition of them all -

this journey from
the ocean to the sky.

(UPLIFTING MUSIC)

(FANFARE)

(EXCITING ORCHESTRAL MUSIC)

Oh blast!

ANNOUNCER: 'These are
River Jets from Hamilton.

They go where no other
boats will go,

planing in a scant
4 inches of water.'

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

Jetboats were invented
by my granddad,

Bill Hamilton, back in 1953.

He wanted to get up into
the back-country waters

of New Zealand and explore
the rivers there,

and he did that with his son,
Jon Hamilton, my father.

Together they explored many
of the rivers in New Zealand.

ANNOUNCER: 'As those who
followed motor racing

in the '20s will know, speed is
nothing new to Bill Hamilton.

But speeding under power
down a rapid river,

where it has just cut a new
channel through willows,

is something new to anybody.

On turns, the boat
banks correctly.

Now upstream again. With
plenty of power, agile steering

and no propeller to be fouled,

this is an invention that can
open up new holiday territory

along many a hitherto
un-navigable torrent.'

(ENGINE ROARS)

(EXCITING VIOLIN MUSIC)

(EXCITING MUSIC CONTINUES)

'At 20 knots, channels
must be spotted quickly.

Power comes from
a motorcar engine

driving the special centrifugal
pump, which feeds the jet.'

(EXCITING MUSIC CONTINUES)

'And so there he goes against
more currents than one -

an outstanding industrialist
and inventor

whose choice it is to live
far from the cities,

through the snowy winters
and dry summers

of the remote
Mackenzie plains.'

(LAUGHTER)

(GRAVEL GRATES)

My dad became
a very good driver,

and in 1960, he led
an expedition to America,

and they ran up through
the Grand Canyon

on the Colorado River,
through the big rapids there -

the only time it has
ever been done.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(ENGINE ROARS)

(INTENSE MUSIC)

ANNOUNCER: 'The first boat ever
is over the lip of Vulcan.

A rooster tail
of jetboat victory

was never more proudly thrown.'

Ed got very interested
in Jetboats,

cos he was always interested
in technological stuff.

He liked-

For example, he liked taking
tractors to the South Pole,

for example, as opposed
to taking dogs.

And when he came across
Jetboats in the South Island,

He suddenly thought,

'Yes, I could use these
in Nepal,'

and he had this idea that he
could create a transport network

of Jetboats running from
India up to Kathmandu.

So some years before
his Ganges expedition,

he took two Jetboats to Nepal -

one driven by
the inventor's son, Jon,

and the other driven by an old
climbing friend, Jim Wilson.

Well, Ed was, above all,
an adventurer.

And he just loved
having adventures

with his close friends.

And I think he thought that
since he'd driven tractors

to the South Pole
with his friends,

so we could drive Jetboats.

And he came up with
the idea of trying to go

up the Sun Kosi River, from
the Indian border, to Kathmandu.

He said that this might be a
very good form of transport,

local transport.

I suspect that was an
excuse for an adventure,

but I think he was
semi-serious about it.

We took Jon Hamilton
as chief driver, of course -

the best jetboat driver
in the world.

But he decided that one
of his mates should drive

the second boat, and for various
reasons, the lot fell to me,

and I duly rewarded him
for this privilege

by sinking one of the Jetboats,
halving his fleet.

(LAUGHS) Yes.

It was flat water for
the first kilometer,

and then it turned into rapids,

and they became more
and more violent, the rapids.

And the boats were having to go
backwards and forwards.

It was fairly lively water,

and I hadn't had much
experience at all.

And we came to two
really big standing waves

with a very, very big dip
between them.

Jon, of course, got to the top
and instantly knew what to do

and gunned the boat
and leapt the gap.

Jetboats can hover motionless to
the bank on fast enough water.

I'd go into the habit of coming
to the top of the wave

and pausing to
have a look around

to see what I might do next.

And this was fatal, because I
didn't have enough momentum.

When I gunned the boat, its bow
pointed down into the dip,

and I drove it straight
into the next wave.

I was in the front boat,
driven by Jon Hamilton,

and Jon was saying,
'I hope Jim is all right.'

I kept looking behind me,
and I said, 'They're sinking!'

And the boat disappeared.

(MENACING MUSIC)

So I crawled out of the water

and went up the bank
to apologise to Ed.

But one of the many things
I love about Ed is that

as long as he thinks that
you've done your best,

he'll never blame you.

And all he said was, 'C'est la
vie,' French for, 'That's life.'

Now, I'd halved his fleet, but
he forgave me just like that,

and being Ed,
simply reorganized,

and we did the rest of
the trip up the Sun Kosi

with just the one boat.

The idea came to Ed that
if a tributary of the Ganges,

of Mother Ganga, had
given us such excitement,

how would it be to drive
Jetboats up the whole length

of the Holy River? We'd almost
be making a pilgrimage,

and we'd be going through
the land we'd all grown to love.

And so the Ocean to Sky trip
was born.

This time, there would
be three boats.

Jon Hamilton again would
be the chief driver.

Mike, his son, the driver
of the second boat.

And Ed, ever forgiving, chose
me to be the third driver -

the driver of the third boat.

And also, rather
tongue in cheek,

since I had a PhD in Hinduism
from an Indian university,

he appointed me spiritual
adviser to the expedition.

My first piece of advice as
so-called spiritual adviser

was that we had to start
the trip at Ganga Sagar -

where the Ganga
meets Sagar, the sea.

This is the divinely
sanctioned starting point

for pilgrimage up the Ganges.

And to go on pilgrimage
in India,

you must have a religious
blessing before you start.

Fortunately, there was a very
charming pujari - Hindu priest -

and he willingly agreed to
come and bless our boats.

As an additional safeguard

against my lack of
driving skill, yeah,...

he put the tika on the foreheads

of all the members
of the expedition.

But it gave me a great feeling
of well-being to be blessed

by this wonderful
little Hindu pujari.

And then he took
a wee while to decide

what was the forehead
of a jetboat.

I think he decided the bow,

but it might have been
the windscreen.

But he did a wonderful
puja for us.

I thought he behaved as if he
was blessing Jetboats every day.

And he just put it on
the nose of the jetboat,

and we took off into the surf.

(UPBEAT CARNATIC MUSIC)

Jon Hamilton,

as the expert on Jetboats,
hated...

the sea for jet boating,

and so the waves were getting
bigger and bigger.

I'd never driven in surf before,
and I hit a huge wave.

And there was a terribly
expensive noise at the back

as the engine leapt
off its mounts.

Ed, who never misses
a chance to tease, said,

'So much for your puja, Jim!'

I snapped back at him,
'If it wasn't for the puja,

'we wouldn't have got
past the first wave!'

(LAUGHS)
To add to the challenge,

Ed had a young film crew - us!

Waka and I were beside
ourselves with excitement

to be on this magic carpet ride

with our hero, Ed Hillary,
and his friends -

Sherpa friends,

Indian friends,

mountaineers like Graeme Dingle
and Murray Jones -

biding their time until
the river turned to ice.

(UPBEAT MUSIC CONTINUES)

And Ed's son, Peter,
was with us too.

The trip was actually planned
with my mother,

and I think they felt
it would be this wonderful,

expeditionary adventure
that they could share together.

Look, I couldn't
believe my luck.

I mean, obviously, it was
my father who was leading it,

and was a special time
for the Hillary family.

My mother and sister had
recently died, and in some ways,

this is exactly what
Dad and I needed.

(POIGNANT MUSIC)

The great tragedy of Ed's life
was the death of his wife,

Louise, and his youngest
daughter, Belinda, in 1975.

And he blamed himself terribly
for it, because he had arranged

that the whole family would
live in Nepal for a year,

and they would fly backwards
and forwards into the Himalayas.

And on this occasion,

the pilot had not done
his proper security checks.

The flaps weren't working.
He took off,

and the plane was unflyable,
and it just suddenly slewed off

and drove straight
into the ground

and killed everybody onboard.

(HAUNTING VOCAL MUSIC)

(POIGNANT MUSIC)

And Ed was shattered.

(POIGNANT MUSIC CONTINUES)

He blamed himself.

It was on one of his
hospital-building expeditions.

(POIGNANT CHORAL MUSIC)

I think, in Ed's mind,
it was not just,

'Here's another adventure
to get my teeth into,'

but he may have felt that Louise
was quietly saying in his ear,

'Look, just go ahead
and do it.'

And we thought that even
the planning of the expedition

started to lift Ed out of
his terrible depression...

and that the trip itself might
restore to us the old, happy Ed.

(RISING MUSIC)

(MUSIC SWELLS)

(MUSIC QUIETENS)

(INDISTINCT, LIVELY CHATTER)

Our first adventure was
to explore the Sundarbans,

which is a huge area
full of mangroves.

Imagine you're in this
vast mangrove swamp

that is the size
of a small country.

And amongst all of this,
amazingly, are crocodiles,

and most incredibly, tigers.

And the stories we heard about
them were quite alarming.

They could leap 20 or more
feet from the bank,

and they'd developed the
charming habit of doing so

and hoicking fishermen out of
their boats and eating them.

They've adapted to living there.

I mean, from habitat loss
further up in Bengal,

they've retreated into
the mangrove swamps.

They can drink brackish water,
eat fish and, occasionally,

the odd fisherman.

Jon started to show off the-
how the boat could ride across

a muddy promontory,
travel across mud for 30m,

and I don't know what a tiger
would have thought of that,

had he seen it.

We felt that any self-respecting
tiger, once it saw our antics,

would refrain from eating us

for fear of contracting
contagious insanity.

But we did do some-
probably fairly silly things,

and we did worry the
Indian Forest Service people

who were with us and who were
armed with very ancient rifles -

rifles we thought were
probably rejected

by Queen Victoria's bodyguard.

And he looked at me and he said,

'Oh! If Sir Hillary gets eaten
by a tiger, I will lose my job.'

But nevertheless,
had a tiger decided

that he was really hungry,
I suppose he could have jumped

inside a boat without
any trouble and eaten

whichever one he wanted to.

Who would it have been?
Would it have been, sort of,

Ed, who was older,
or would it have been one of

the younger people like Waka?

The local village-
villagers would never go up

these side channels, because
the tigers would possibly leap

from the canopy and...

take people.

And when I look back on it now,
it was extremely gung-ho.

You know, the esprit de corps
buoyed us on, and we just felt,

' What could possibly go wrong?'

Well, of course, everything
could have gone wrong.

The tides would
suddenly rush out.

We had difficulty getting out of
some of these narrow streams.

(EASYGOING MUSIC)

(MUSIC RISES)

(ADVENTUROUS MUSIC)

We went up these side channels,
of course, on a falling tide,

and so we just about
got landlocked.

(BIRDS SQUAWK)

It's too muddy. Over this way.

We were very keen
to see a tiger;

not quite so keen
to be eaten by one.

(LAUGHTER, CHATTER)

Has anyone got a gun?

LAUGHS: Oh!

Oh, hey, I'm disappearing.
Hang on!

(LAUGHTER)

Oh!

- Hold on.
- Oh.

It was a great idea
coming up this creek (!)

- Come on!
- (ALL STRAIN, GROAN)

Push!

And suddenly someone pointed out

that there was what
looked like a coconut

moving strongly
across the current.

(ENGINE ROARS)

I grabbed my camera,
and we raced towards this thing

in the water, and soon we could
see that it had stripes!

And we were quite close before
we saw that it was a tiger,

later identified as a female,
swimming across the river.

And, uh, (LAUGHS) shouts were
trying to encourage Mike and me

to get between the tiger
and the shore and cut it off.

A very severe attack
of cowardice

prevented either Mike or I
agreeing to this.

But we did come cautiously
behind the tiger as it went over

and pulled itself up on to
the bank, covered in mud,

and almost immediately
disappeared into the mangroves.

And we thought that was it,
but then suddenly we heard

an amazingly magnificent roar

that just sent shivers
down our spine.

(ROAR ECHOES)

And out came striding...

this huge male tiger,

and it was rippling muscles.

And I remember when...

we gave the engine

a bit of a roar,

the tiger responded immediately
with an even greater roar.

(ROAR RUMBLES, ECHOES)

And I realised, watching this
animal, that if it decided

it was going to have you,
it was going to have you.

Because we could see how far
the bloody thing could jump.

It was an impressive athlete.

And we were extremely lucky,

because one of the
Forest Service people

who'd been working in the area
for, I think, 15 years,

had never seen a tiger.

So of course,
as spiritual adviser,

I explained to everybody that
this was because of the puja

we had had before
we left Ganga Sagar.

(ENGINE ROARS)

(EXCITING MUSIC)

We roared in our Jetboats into
the great city of Kolkata,

under the Howrah Bridge,

and the crowds were
absolutely mind-boggling.

We believed we waved
at a population of people

that exceeded that
of all of New Zealand.

Three or four million people,

lining the banks, in the trees,
up on buildings and shrines,

all of them waving at us,

all there to get a glimpse
of the amazing Jetboats

and my father, you know,
the climber of Mt Everest.

(EXCITED CHATTER, CLAMORING)

Ed was widely known
throughout India.

And here was
a history book figure

suddenly coming to life,
and people flocked to see him.

(HORN BELLOWS)

The children were
a total wonder to us -

totally inquisitive faces

looking at people they had
been told were great,

particularly Ed Hillary, the
first person to climb Everest;

looking at boats that were,
to them, rockets,

and coming up to us
and saying things like,

'Are you the same men
that went to the moon?'

The whole thing was a cocktail
which made your head spin.

Well, I was just a humble boy
from rural New Zealand,

you know, and I had never ever
before expected crowds

and adulation like
we were given.

And a lot of people,
to be honest,

didn't quite understand
what Jetboats were.

They knew of jet planes,

and they sort of thought
we were flying up the river.

When you go mountaineering,
you know you're not going to see

crowds all over the mountain
watching you climbing.

But here we were
on what we thought

was a solitary adventure, but
we were actually being joined

by many millions of Indians
as we went up the river.

And when Indians climbed Everest
in '65, that was perhaps

the biggest expedition
in India in those days.

(LIVELY, UPLIFTING MUSIC)

But as a total impact on
the population of the country,

the way the people came,

after days and days
of traveling on foot,

to have a look at these
funny machines

going opposite the current,

and I think the total impact
on the nation was perhaps

the biggest and most
publicized expeditions

in the history of the world.

(CELEBRATORY MARCHING MUSIC)

This textbook figure,

for all intents and purposes,

was making a holy pilgrimage
up Mother Ganga.

(MARCHING MUSIC CONTINUES)

I was particularly worried,
as spiritual adviser.

I thought we could be resented
by roaring up the Holy River

in polluting, noisy,
mechanical craft.

But that was dispelled. I didn't
feel the slightest hint of that.

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

My feeling is that all
the Indian crowds

who came to see us
genuinely felt

that we were making
a pilgrimage.

We were starting to realise
through these sort of encounters

that people really regarded
this expedition

as something very special,

almost sacred,

and people wanted
to come with us.

And one young man, a very
enterprising young man,

was so keen, that
he converted his bike

into an amphibious craft
and came pedaling out

over the water.

(ENGINE REVS SOFTLY)

(SERENE, EXPECTANT MUSIC)

Also, we were hassled
for autographs.

At first, we humbler members
of the expedition

at first took this rather
flatteringly, you see.

But after one day, we were
sick of signing autographs.

Ed never, ever turned anyone
away. He was simply amazing.

He kept his good humor as
crowds pressed in upon him,

clamoring for autographs.

The adulation of the people
was interesting,

and Ed handled it very well,
but he didn't himself think

he was particularly special.

He was a genuinely modest,
humble man.

(PLAYS HERALDING MUSIC)

But the people thought
he was divinity itself -

an avatar come down to Earth -

and there's an
ancient belief in India

that if you are in the presence
of a great person

or of a divinity,
you acquire merit simply by,

almost osmotically,
by being in their presence.

It's called 'darshan' - having
darshan of a great person.

And I've no doubt at all
that played a large role

in the adulation of Ed and in
the tremendous press of people

trying to get close enough to
acquire some of Ed's merit.

Often they were just
mere tens of thousands.

On many occasions, they were
hundreds of thousands.

And it was overwhelming.
They'd go over the hills -

all these people all intent
on coming to see

what was happening.

These crowds were so dense.
They'd been waiting a long time,

sometimes three days. And of
course, the crowd get restless.

There was this sort of
tension in the air,

and there was this really large,
mustachioed man beaming away

as he's looking across
at my father, Ed Hillary.

And there was a policeman
with a 2-meter lathi stick,

and for some reason,
he hit this man with the stick.

And of course, he went from
this great beaming smile

to looking pretty upset
about this.

And just the emotion in
the crowd suddenly changed.

I mean, it really
got quite tense.

And most of us were trying
to jump back into the boats

and get away, because we felt

this could become
very unpleasant.

But not my father.
He pushed past the policeman,

reached out to this big guy
with the mustache

and shook him by the hand
and patted him on the back.

And a big smile came
back on his face,

and he just instantly
defused that tension.

It was- It really was
vintage Ed Hillary.

Obviously, the focus
was on my father,

the first man to climb Everest -
you know, a world entity.

But there was also an emphasis
on his son, and that was me,

and I- I didn't feel that
comfortable about it, because,

as I said, I felt, you know -

what have I done, really, to
deserve all of this attention?

And I remember on one occasion-

You know, I was
a 22-year-old student

going on a climbing
and jet-boating expedition.

And an elderly villager
came up to me and knelt down

and touched my feet,
obviously wanting the darshan,

but, you know, what did I have
to offer as a 22-year-old?

And I found this very, very
difficult, because I thought,

'What have I done to earn that?'

And in many respects, I think,
philosophically, I felt,

'What has anyone done

'to really deserve someone
touching your feet?'

For Peter Hillary,

going along to be the son of god
was very difficult.

And Peter, on his own, was
a highly successful person.

He was a great climber - very
strong climber, a good athlete.

He had so much going for him.

He had his pilot's license;

he was a very
accomplished mountaineer.

And so to be sought out
not for any of these things

but simply because he was Ed's
son was not a happy thing.

Yeah, he even went through
this stage in New Zealand

where he'd call himself
Peter Hill

so people wouldn't recognise
him as Ed's son,

and so he wouldn't get
favors and that

when he was trying to get a job.

It was particularly galling to
see beautiful young women

wanting to meet this young man.

But I think Peter was quite
disturbed by the whole thing.

I remember, many,
many pretty girls in India

wanting our autographs.

But unfortunately, we kept
traveling all the time,

so I never had time to really
talk and get to know them,

which was unfortunate.

(SERENE FLUTE MUSIC)

(MEN CONVERSE IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(CREW CHANT RHYTHMICALLY)

(SOLEMN VOCAL MUSIC)

(SOLEMN VOCAL MUSIC CONTINUES)

For long periods,
once we were out

on the main bosom of Mother
Ganga, we were going through

seemingly sparsely
inhabited areas

and the peace of the river

and sometimes temples actually
in the middle of the river.

(SOLEMN MUSIC CONTINUES)

One of the brilliant things
about the journey

was the contrasts -

I mean, the great crowds
of Calcutta,

and then out on
the Gangetic Plains,

roaring along in our Jetboats,

the country boats with their
great patchwork quilt sails,

moving along, and the
singing of the boatmen.

(SOLEMN VOCAL MUSIC)

(ENGINE CHUGS SOFTLY)

We saw one sail that definitely
had more holes in it than cloth.

But by some magic -
probably they'd done puja -

it was drawing
the ship along perfectly,

just as if it had been a full
sail. It was absolutely magical.

And to be in this sublime,
peaceful atmosphere

was just wonderful.

(STIRRING VOCAL MUSIC)

The absolutely stunning,
big river boats

carrying cargos of rock
and sand for building.

It was as the river had been
10,000 years ago,

and the boats we were seeing
were very old boats.

They were like nothing else
you ever saw.

I'm sure, go back there
in the 21st century,

and there'll be motorboats. But
they were not motorboats then.

(HAUNTING VOCAL MUSIC CONTINUES)

When it was getting
a bit difficult to sail,

they would simply put these
straining young people

on the end of a long rope
and tow the boats up the river.

Like they used to do in England,
in the canals and that,

but instead of using horses,
they were using people.

(SHEETS RUSTLE)

(SERENE MUSIC)

(THUMP! THUMP!)

(THUD! THUD!)

(THWACK!)

And every night we would choose
a spot, usually by a village,

and go and respectfully
ask the villagers -

could we camp near
their village,

and always, of course,
eagerly agreed to.

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

And this is the case just
for ordinary mortals,

but of course, with Ed
being considered a god,

we were now involved
with hospitality to God,

her or himself.

They welcomed us not just warmly
but very self-sacrificially.

(SPEAKS IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(BOTH CONVERSE
IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(SERENE VOCAL MUSIC)

The incredible thing about
the Ganges River, the Ganga,

is it really is a living,
breathing river.

It moves around on the surface
of the Great Gangetic Plains,

cutting away at
the banks of the river.

And not infrequently,
we would visit villages

where extensive amounts of
the village and their fields

had been cut away by the river.

A village which had already
lost half its houses

had not sufficient flat ground
left for us to camp on

that didn't have crops on.

So... (CHUCKLES) without
a second thought, seemingly,

they proceeded to cut down
some of their precious corn crop

to give us room to camp -

which struck me as the most
extraordinary hospitality

we've ever been privileged
to be offered.

Both with the crop cut down and
camping, we would offer to pay,

and this was firmly refused.

This was hospitality that was
not something you could buy;

this was given.

Now, the Ganga is not
just a symbol of life;

it is actually, to many, many
hundreds of millions of people,

literally life itself.
It's water for irrigation,

water for drinking,
water for transport.

And of course,
I think this underlies

the spiritual significance
as well.

(PEACEFUL MUSIC)

It's Mother Ganga that
laid down the fertile soil

that supports
the vast population

of the plains of Ganga,
every flood.

But it's Mother Ganga also that,
in floods, cuts away that land

and redistributes it downriver.

But we felt that the
villagers accepted this.

And if the river took -
whether lives or houses -

you had to accept that.

The thing is to adjust
your inner attitudes

and to accept life as it is -
both giving and taking.

And Ganga is, in my view,
the most superb symbol of this,

which explains, of course,
at least in part,

its great holiness and why
it's reverenced so deeply.

I remember Murray and I
going off into the village,

and it was like a time warp

going into the quiet
little lanes.

(MILK SPRAYS RHYTHMICALLY)

People milking their buffalo,
going about their daily chores.

(RHYTHMIC SLOSHING)

And they'd just look up and
smile at us, and we'd wander on.

But there was something
very restful about them.

It just felt as though those
people had been there

for thousands of years.
And I think they had actually.

There's no doubt in my mind that
although we were just rough,

skeptical New Zealand
mountaineers,

the gentle wisdom of Hinduism
was sinking into us

through this trip up
Mother Ganga.

And we were definitely beginning
to drop that Anglicized name -

The Ganges -
and calling her Ganga

or Ganga Ama - Mother Ganga.

And so we would spend the night

with perhaps a few village
children coming round

and peering at us, wondering
what Max Pearl was doing

when he was shaving
with an electric shaver.

But very respectfully left on
our own, and it was sheer bliss

after the crowds.

(GENTLE FLUTE MUSIC)

(IMPASSIONED VOCAL MUSIC)

(VOCAL MUSIC CONTINUES)

(VOCAL MUSIC CONTINUES)

(MUSIC QUIETENS)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(SERENE VOCAL MUSIC)

Wherever you went,

you were aware how important

Hinduism was to these people

and how it was completely
linked to the river,

because you saw ritual bathing
all the way up the river.

Mother Ganga, because
of all the population,

was, even in our day, polluted.

And it's even worse -
much worse now.

But in Hindu belief,
it is completely pure.

I believed this for a while
and drank some

and came down with
amoebic dysentery.

But that shows I wasn't
spiritual enough.

I didn't go along with
the Indian philosophy

of self-purification
in the Ganges,

cos it didn't look like it
to me. (CHUCKLES)

The proper explanation
is the Hindu explanation -

it's a sacred river.

How could any pollution
get in a sacred river?

Anything that falls in
is purified.

If I fell in and died there,
I would go instantly to heaven.

But there have been attempts
to explain it scientifically

by saying that it goes through
some deposits in the river bed

that have antibiotic
properties and so on.

I wouldn't...

dare pronounce on
the truth of the matter,

but it's certainly
regarded as pure.

- Come on!
- Whoa!

(YELLS)

(LAUGHTER)

You definitely kept your head
above water, and I actually

don't remember
having any problems.

I don't know whether
I'd do it now.

But we were a lot younger
and a lot more stupid then,

you know, because it's not the
healthiest river in the world

to swim in, with all due
respects to India. (CHUCKLES)

(MYSTICAL MUSIC)

We knew the water
could actually kill us

in the bouldery rapids ahead.

And we knew the higher the
river level, the more chance

we actually had
of getting through.

So we were here at the tail end
of the monsoon

when river volumes are 30 times
the dry-season volumes.

And these vast black clouds
were always with us.

(THUNDER RUMBLES)

(BICYCLE BELL DINGS)

(WATER SLOSHES)

There was water, water
everywhere.

(LAUGHS HEARTILY)

Some towns we passed were
living semi-aquatic lifestyles,

and the river itself
sometimes looked like a sea.

With the river being so wide
and not much current showing,

we couldn't tell which way
was upstream

or whether we were going
sideways or up-ways.

It was very hard for
us to know what direction

even to head in sometimes.

We were, honestly, right
in the middle of nowhere.

It was, like,
horizon to horizon.

You could not see land
either side.

We were taking compass settings
in the middle of the Ganges.

And in a lot of places,
big tributaries came down,

and where the rivers joined,
it was very difficult to know

even that you were
on the right river.

Reading the water depth
was almost impossible.

And you'd be driving along in
this brown water and be not sure

how deep it was.

So between 30m or 40m depth...

and, um, well,

a few millimeters' depth,

there is nothing to show you on
the surface - nothing at all -

no ripples, nothing.

So consequently, we had
a terrible time knowing

where the deep water was,
and these boats go about 30mph -

50 or so kilometers
an hour, I think.

So most of us were on edge.

Jetboats hate sand.

They love mud, but sand
will just stop them dead.

So there was one occasion,

when I was lounging
on the front of the boat,

enjoying the sun and tearing
along at 50km/h,

and suddenly, woomph!

- You all right?!
- Oh! Thanks, Jim!

- Are you OK?
- I felt like a swim!

Boy, we had some
terrible groundings.

People and equipment
would be thrown

either overboard or forward
inside the boat,

and people would be injured.

There were many
groundings - many.

Mingma was thrown off,
and his whole lip was cut,

and Max Pearl had
to stitch up his lip.

Yes, the only doctor
to set up practice

in the middle of the Ganges.

Max Pearl was
a very close friend.

In fact, he was
our family doctor

and began to go on a number
of my father's expeditions

to help with setting up
the first hospitals

up in the Mt Everest area
in the Himalayas.

He was one of the most loved
members of the expedition.

And just a few years later,
tragically,

he was back in a river
in New Zealand, fly-fishing

when they raised
the level of the river,

and Max was swept away to
his death - a terrible tragedy.

(POIGNANT MUSIC)

(ENGINE HUMS)

Now we were halfway
from the ocean to the sky,

entering the holy city
of Varanasi,

and no one could be happier
to be here than Jim Wilson.

Jim had actually trained
for the Christian ministry,

but then his spiritual life had
taken as many twists and turns

as his jetboat,
and it led him here,

where he did a doctorate
in Hindu Philosophy.

- (SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE)
- (LAUGHS)

Your teacher very good.

(PRAYS IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

Eventually we came to Varanasi,

where Ann and I had
lived for two years.

It was one of the most,
if not the most sacred city

in the whole of India,

and I think the reason
was that it was on a bend

in Mother Ganga.

The sun rose, straight across
the river, a magnificent sight,

and so the two great symbols
of life - the heat from the sun,

the liquid, the water
from the river - combined.

It is a truly magnificent,
very moving place,

and people come from all over
India, of course, to bathe here.

If you bathe in Mother Ganga
there, with the right attitude,

one would hope you'd get rid
of all your bad karma,

all your demerits;

all your bad deeds are washed
away by the purity of the river.

(SERENE MUSIC)

Jim was really excited about
going back to Varanasi,

but I think, for all of us,

it was really
like the halfway point.

We were halfway up the river.

This was one of the world's
oldest living cities,

and it was the heart
of Hinduism -

you know, very much the
theology of this great river.

And so there was great
excitement amongst all of us,

and, I have to say,
it did not disappoint.

And if you add to that that it
had been continuously inhabited,

at least from the time
of the Buddha,

so at least for 3000 years, and
has been a holy pilgrimage place

for all that time;

and then add to that
the sheer, wacky,

colorful chaos of it all,

then you end up with the fact

that Varanasi is a very
powerful place indeed.

It makes a deep impression.

It's just such a crazy
kaleidoscope of color and sound

and the constant intermingling
of human and other animals.

So it was a city
that seemed chaotic,

but people were nice
to each other -

just in a very stimulating way

and was actually-
I mean, it operated very well.

(SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(PUNGI PLAYS UPBEAT TUNE)

(PUNGI MUSIC CONTINUES)

(UPBEAT MUSIC CONTINUES)

Each morning, these
young guys would come out

and do calisthenics and
literally tie themselves up

in knots.

On one occasion I joined them.
And I was reasonably flexible,

but not as flexible as them -
that is for sure.

(CROWD CHEERS, CLAPS)

And that was part of the
magic of it - engaging with what

the people were doing.

And we were received
by them wonderfully.

(MUSICIANS PLAY
TRADITIONAL MUSIC)

(CONCH PEALS)

(PRAYS IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

So, at Varanasi,
we had a second puja.

(CONTINUES PRAYING)

I think that puja in Varanasi
was incredibly important.

(BELL RINGS)

(CROWD JOINS IN PRAYER)

We were halfway
through the journey.

The Himalayas
were still out in front.

But what had happened
in the past,

with the loss of my mother
and my sister,

was still very heavily
upon our hearts.

(BELL RINGS RHYTHMICALLY)

(DRUMS PLAY RAPID BEAT)

So I think that little puja
that we had there

on the Ghats of Varanasi was
a very important occasion.

And I think something
happened for Dad.

I think there was a bit of
levity that came out of that.

And in a way it put to peace
just a little bit

of what had happened
to us in the past.

Something in the puja seemed
to soothe Ed and take away

some of the pain
he was suffering.

And it was good to see the light
come back into his eyes,

particularly seeing the most
exciting part of our expedition

lay just ahead.

I think Ed changed before us,
actually, before our eyes.

It was a very powerful moment.

The climax was floating
fragile little leaf boats

with lighted candles in out
on to the bosom of Mother Ganga.

And we took it as a symbol of
the fact that shortly, our boats

would be as frail
as these little leaf boats

when we tackled the white water
of the mountainous gorge

of Mother Ganga.

(UPBEAT SITAR MUSIC)

Finally we reached
the end of the plains

and were approaching
the mountains.

The river was steepening here
but not yet too steep

for the local milkman to make
his delivery run down the rapids

without spilling a drop.

But just beyond,
the serious white water starts.

The river steepens drastically,

and the banks close in
in deep gorges.

Our spirits rose at the same
time as our trepidation arose.

At Rishikesh, all the local
people were, of course,

quite certain that
we would sink.

They were divided into two.

The pessimists thought
we would undoubtedly sink

in the first rapid
round the corner;

the optimists thought we might
get about 10km up and then sink.

We thought we'd get a little
further, but this did sort of

dent our confidence
a little bit.

So we took the canopies off,
because if a boat did sink,

it might make it difficult
to get out of the boat

with the canopy on. (LAUGHS)

And we wish you all the best,

on behalf of our master
Swami Shivananda-

MAN: May God bless you all!

...and all our prayers with you.

We wish you happy and safe
journey. Come back.

(LAUGHTER)

(SPEAKS LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(ALL CHANT, CHEER)

(UPBEAT MUSIC)

(MAN YELLS, CROWD CHEERS)

We set off, and immediately,
around the first corner,

if I remember rightly,
from Rishikesh,

we came across
a horrendous rapid.

(WATER ROARS)

It really did have some
very big waves in it,

particularly near the bottom.

It really looked like the
pessimists might be right.

(UPBEAT MUSIC CONTINUES)

We lightened the boats
and carried gear

to the top of the rapids
and set up our cameras.

(LIVELY, BUSY MUSIC)

The drivers, Jon and Mike
Hamilton, and Jim Wilson,

decided they'd risk taking
just one passenger each.

And lionhearted Mohan Kohli,
Everest mountaineer,

made the necessary
preparations to go with Jon.

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

My father led the first boat
up through the rapids.

The first path he tried,
he found he couldn't proceed

because of the waves.

He ended up having to cross
to the far side of the river

over some huge waves...

and then made his way up
through the rapids,

crossing back again
up near the top...

(TENSE MUSIC)

(MUSIC RISES)

and finally making
his way out successfully.

(TRIUMPHANT MUSIC)

Ed, in addition to allowing me
to drive the third boat,

traveled with me
in the dangerous water.

I think he felt that if I was to
drown, it would be safer for him

to drown too than to go back
and face Anne and tell her

what he'd done to me.
So Ed was with me in the boat.

And we had to
go across the river

between huge breaking standing
waves and go up the other side.

And as I tried to sidle across
between the two breaking waves,

the boat lurched, and I fell off
the accelerator, and of course

then the boat just
wildly gyrated down

over the next standing waves.

I managed to get back
on to the accelerator.

It was scary just filming,

knowing that if the bow went
under, they were probably gone.

You know, Ed didn't
have to be in a boat at all,

and certainly not with Jim -
the least experienced driver

who'd lost a boat on
a scarily similar rapid

on that first expedition.

I realised I wasn't just filming
a boat battling a rapid;

I was filming an incredible act
of courage and loyalty.

(ENGINE ROARS)

I think, for all of us involved,
this was the...

ultimate expedition,
the ultimate adventure,

partly because
it brought together

so many cultural and religious

and mountain
and adventure themes;

but above all because we were
with a man whom we all

(VOICE BREAKS) really loved.

Ed was not only
a great adventurer

and a tremendous organizer,
but he was a very lovely man.

And once you'd won his trust,

he was the most loyal friend
you could ever hope for.

The fact that he traveled
with me in my boat,

regardless of difficulties
and danger,

the fact that he wanted
his friends

to be part of the expedition
rather than bringing in experts,

the fact that he could change
plans at a moment's notice

if circumstances demanded -

they all added up to a man
who was a very lovely man

and who remained throughout

very humble about his own
extraordinary qualities.

So it's small wonder
that we loved him

and we'd go anywhere with him.

(EERIE, ECHOING MUSIC)

(FLAMES CRACKLE)

(MUSIC QUIETENS)

After the first big rapid,
we saw Mohan taking much longer

over his prayers
than he had previously.

And it worked, because next day,
the rapids were easier

and we had a superb day.

(LIVELY MUSIC)

(BLEATS)

It was really nice jet-boating.

We were traveling up through
a high-sided gorge

with swiftly flowing water
underneath,

and it was really good fun
just driving the boats along

when everything was going well.

(GOATS BLEAT)

(PENSIVE MUSIC)

It was amazing! So unexpected.

Sometimes the river
was calm enough

for the dead-buffalo boatmen
to have a nice day out.

(EASY-GOING MUSIC)

(BLOWS RHYTHMICALLY)

They'd inflate their crafts
to just the right pressure

and share the river with us.

(ENGINE TURNS, RUMBLES)

(SERENE MUSIC)

(ENGINE ROARS)

For petrol-heads like us,

the Chevrolet 5-liter V8

was just a perfect noise.

But that was just
the sort of background

to the roar of the river

and this beautiful waltz
up the wild water.

Ed was really, really happy
on this particular day.

It was like we could go forever
and nothing would stop us.

It was such tremendous fun,
and I confidently got out

my big, expensive and
not at all waterproof camera

and started filming
from the boat itself.

And then whoa!
Reality check.

(RAPIDS ROAR)

Deep down, we knew
this river was deadly.

Two world-class canoeists
had just drowned in it.

And I must say, this
freaked me out completely.

I thought that if experts like
that coming down had drowned,

who am I to stay alive?

We also heard that
two young Indian lads

were trying to raft down,
and they both drowned.

That tragedy had actually
been witnessed

by one of our own
film crew - Prem.

Just 11 years back,

the tragedy, which I had
actually seen with my own eyes -

two boys dying
on the same river.

(MOMENTOUS MUSIC)

(DRAMATIC, MENACING MUSIC)

Believe me, within a minute
and a half,...

I see the raft dashed

and then disappeared for
a few seconds under the water,

And then the raft came up.

Again, I see the raft was
just floating on its own.

We lost two young boys,

and it was a most shivering
memory in my mind.

I was praying all the time
to the God Almighty

nothing like that should happen
in our expedition

of Sir Edmund Hillary.

(EERIE MUSIC)

It was Prem, filming us from the
shore, who saw his worst fears

may be about to come true.

My dad's boat plunged
into a big hole in the rapid

and disappeared from sight.

And we just paused
at the top of this wave

and then dropped nose-first
down into this hole.

And the water just-
just smashed into us.

And this wall of green water

poured over
the front of the boat.

We had no choice.
We were pinned into the seat.

And we thought, 'Well, we're
going to sink here, I think.'

Cos I really did think
we were going to be

swimming down the Ganga
after that.

But it was the closest I've ever
been to perhaps being drowned

in the Ganga.

He managed to get it ashore,
running on only five cylinders.

Water was up over
the starter motor

and up over the spark plugs.

I had to drain
the engine oil out of it

before we could
get it going again.

We ended up pumping the whole
boat out, draining the oil.

It was sort of bush maintenance

done on the side of
the river at that point.

And I said to
Jon Hamilton - I said,

'I thought you said these boats
were unsinkable.'

And he said, 'They are. They're
unsinkable when they're afloat!'

So even the master
can make mistakes.

The risk, of course, is that
if one of the boats sank,

someone might also be
lost in the process.

And that was really unthinkable.
We did not want to do that.

Dad had never lost anyone
on any of his expeditions,

and we didn't want to start now.

Ed always said that we'd
drive until we lost a boat.

I think he worried about people
getting hurt or dying.

He'd never lost anyone
before on a trip.

And if it was his very close
friend Jim Wilson,

then that would have
been a total disaster.

(REFLECTIVE MUSIC)

So, then we come to Rudraprayag
and a really fearsome rapid.

And there in front of me was
a rapid which I had seen

in a picture at Rishikesh
before we left,

and which I'd been having
nightmares about ever since.

And it was a long,
bouldery rapid.

It looked very big indeed to me.

And my nightmares
always ended up

with the boat splitting in two,

and me desperately trying to
piece the thing together again.

So when I saw
this rapid in reality

and saw that it was worse
than the photograph,

my heart sank within me.

Definitely, I think my memory of
sinking the boat in the Arun

came back to me,

cos this was the sort of place
where I could very well sink.

(FOREBODING MUSIC)

Tensions were certainly high
at the Rudraprayag rapid.

We weren't at all sure
we could get all three boats

or even one up.

Crowds and crowds of people
had come to watch.

We were performing in front of
them, (LAUGHS) if you like.

We were told that storekeepers
were leaving their shops open,

because even the thieves had
gone down to watch the boats.

So steeling our nerves
as best we could,

we tackled this dreadful rapid.

Jon, in his usual
masterful fashion,

led up this nightmare rapid,

and I waited with increasing
nervousness at the bottom.

(HEROIC, SWELLING MUSIC)

The crowd was
actually laying bets

on who would get up the rapid.

And they all put their
money on sadhu Jim,

because he had the beard,
and he looked like a holy man,

so he must be able to do it.
But in actual fact,

Jim was not the best driver
of the expedition. (CHUCKLES)

The crowds
gathering round, watching,

were laying their bets on me.
They thought I was a holy man

and were convinced
I'd already performed miracles.

And so they thought that
if anyone would get up,

it would be the holy man.

So I fervently hoped
that they were right

and that I could perform
a miracle again.

(ENGINE ROARS, STRAINS)

It was difficult driving but not
as bad as I had feared,

and my nightmare of sinking
the boat and splitting it in two

was not borne out in reality.

(CROWD APPLAUDS)

I was beginning to...

um,

grade the rapids

by a sort of danger scale.

You know, if a thousand
people turned up,

then that was relatively easy.

But if 10,000 people
turned up to watch us die,

then that was a...

difficult rapid.

(TRIUMPHANT MUSIC)

Ed was definitely
feeling the tension,

and as each boat got up, his
elation grew,

and when Mike
and the third boat got up,

he leapt to his feet
and went, 'Wow!'

We got without undue trouble
through to the Koteshwar Gorge.

It had an abrupt drop
at the start of the gorge

known as 'The Deer's Leap'

because deer were meant
to have leapt across it.

Although the whole river
came through a single chute

at that point, we actually
got up with no trouble.

We went through the gorge, which
was quite still water but eerie,

because it was encased
in sheer cliffs

for a hundred feet
or more above.

(ENGINES HUM)

At the top of the gorge,
we came to a chute,

and this rapid poured down
into a wider part of the river

that was surging up and down
unpredictably.

It was an incredible boil of
water, a very steep tongue,

but the worst feature was that
the force of the water meant

that sometimes the water
below rose right up

and the chute was
not very high a jump.

At other times, huge holes,
boiling holes,

opened below the chute.

And, of course, if you went
at the wrong moment,

you hit almost
a vertical wall of water.

The bow of the boat would have
plunged into the rapid,

and we would likely have sunk.

I was thinking that it was
certainly a place

where we could lose a boat.

You only had to look
at the audience.

To have bothered to come here,
miles from anywhere,

they must have known
they were going to see

something spectacular.

(TENSE MUSIC)

So, the Dingle Danger Scale

had a number of factors.

If the rapid was
particularly remote,

if they'd had to trek
to get there,

then that was very high

on the Dingle Danger Scale.

None of us were really looking
forward to being on the boats,

and so there was...

a great enthusiasm

to carry gear

up the sides

so that the boats were
as light as possible

and only one person
was going to die.

The angst had been
reinforced by the fact

that it was very similar to
a chute in the Clutha River

in New Zealand where I had,
in fact, come to grief.

I didn't hit any rocks, but
I was tossed out of the boat,

and the boat and I floated
back down the river,

but fortunately I didn't drown.

(TENSE MUSIC)

That tended to increase
my trepidation,

and it would have been
interesting to measure

the difference in terror
(CHUCKLES)

between Jon and Mike and me.

I imagine Jon felt tension
but no terror;

Mike was probably mildly scared,
and I was plain petrified.

MIKE G: And we watched
Jon go up first.

And because the water
is changing all the time -

it's not constant -
you just have to sit there

and judge it, and at some point,

he has to put his foot
on the accelerator

and just try and leap forward.

(RAPIDS ROAR)

(ENGINE RUMBLES)

Jon hovered for
a very long time,

and then with incredible skill,
chose his moment

and just shot through
with virtually no trouble.

(CHUCKLES) I had to muster
my courage somehow,

and so I comforted myself
with the thought that

I must surely, by now,
be undrownable

because of all the many
occasions in the past

where I'd had every chance
of drowning and hadn't.

It wasn't a complete comfort,
and in situations like this,

my thoughts did go to Ann
and the children, and I felt

it wouldn't be a very
good idea to drown.

I went up and hovered
much longer than Jon,

and the difficulty was

the water would come up,
and it wouldn't stay there long,

and then it'd go down again.

I was waiting to make sure
it was properly up.

And when I gunned the boat,
it had already started dropping.

I hit the near vertical wall of
water at the wrong angle.

The boat swerved
violently to the right.

I corrected violently
to the left

and nearly hit
the rock on the left

and swung just in time,...

I think missing the rock
only by inches.

He got thrown a bit to one side,
and then to the other side,

and we really thought he was
actually going to hit a rock

and be thrown back
into that turbulent water,

which really could
have drowned him.

If I'd hit the rock with
the stern of the boat,

it would undoubtedly have
taken the whole jet unit off,

and I would have lost all
control of the boat.

The boat and I, probably
broadside on, would have been

swept down into
the boiling water below.

And I might have survived, and
indeed, since I was a holy man,

I was undrownable (!)

And he only missed it by inches
but doused me in the process.

But he just escaped from it
and got out the top,

and we were so pleased. There
was a great sigh of relief.

Mike came up
much more proficiently

but still hit the tongue
at the wrong angle

and did a near repeat of mine,

but not nearly so
close to the rocks.

So we were all safely through.

(ENGINE ROARS,
ONLOOKERS APPLAUD, CHEER)

(TRIUMPHANT MUSIC)

All the way up the gorges, there
were huge and increasing crowds

at all the bad rapids as people
came from miles around,

because the national press
and All India Radio

and, of course, word of mouth
had been spreading rumors,

myths about these magic boats
driven by a holy man

which could fly and
overcome any obstacles.

And they believed that these
boats could actually jump up

in the air, and when they came
to an obstacle, a waterfall,

they could simply jump up it.

So the combination
of the god Vishnu,

in the form of Edmund Hillary,

and these magic boats
was irresistible.

I blame the papers,
because (CHUCKLES)

these Jetboats could leap; they
could do backward somersaults.

These Jetboats
could do anything (!)

We were on the chariots of gods,
weren't we?

(ONLOOKERS CHEER)

(FESTIVE MUSIC PLAYS)

(MEN CHANT IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(DRUMS PLAY FESTIVE BEAT)

(MAN CONTINUES CHANTING)

This man, clearly
with very poor eyesight,

came up to me and put a garland
around my neck and said,

'You are very great man.

'What is difference
between you and god?'

I shuffled about from
one foot to the other and said,

'Well, I don't know, mate.'

(ENGINE TURNS, RUMBLES)

(LIVELY LOCAL MUSIC)

We'd survived some pretty bad
rapids; we'd driven some others

with increasing skill,
but we were, by this time,

getting quite weary.

And we came to a rapid that had
huge waves in the middle.

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

I, by this stage, hated
those big pressure waves,

and so I tried a route
closer to the shore,

and I got to a place where
there was a rock either side

of a tiny trickle, and I glared
at the rock with my yogic powers

and enlarged the gap ever so
slightly and slipped through.

We were now looking back on
about 300km of rather difficult,

I thought, jetboat driving.

I guess my main feeling was one
of relief that I was still alive

and that I hadn't sunk a boat.

What would finally stop us?
Would it be a sinking,

or would it be something
where we...

it was just impossible
and we wouldn't even try?

(ALARMING MUSIC)

And then we came
to a great waterfall

right across our path, and, yup,

we knew this was
the end for the Jetboats.

I think somebody must have
yelled something out to me,

'What do you think?'
And I just would have gone,

'There's no way these boats
are going to get up here. No.'

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(MUSIC RISES)

It was an impenetrable barrier.

(WATER ROARS, RUMBLES)

It was pretty obvious what would
happen if we'd even, like,

got the nose of the jetboat
anywhere near that waterfall.

The nose would have dug in,

and the boat would have
been just pushed under.

To the crowd, however, who had
seen the legend of these boats

growing over some weeks now,

we were absolute wimps
and had totally failed.

Someone came up to
Mike Gill and said to him,

'Why are you not going on?'
And Mike said, 'Well, we can't.

The Jetboats can't get up
a waterfall like that.'

'That is not true,' he was told.

'These boats can leap
20ft or 30ft!

I have seen it
with my own eyes!'

(INTREPID MUSIC)

The next day in
the papers, apparently,

there were these accusations
of us chickening out

and not being able
to move on beyond this.

The Indian press was
disappointed in us,

because they said
we had magic boats.

Why did these boats not jump up
this waterfall ahead of us?

And they suddenly realised that
we were ordinary human beings,

and we weren't gods,
and our boats had limitations.

I think it was an
immense disappointment

to the people of India.

We were so ashamed
of our inability to...

perform as expected

that we crept away with
our tail between our legs

and decided that as penance,

we would walk the hundred-odd
kilometers to Badrinath,

scorning the easier route
of a pilgrim's bus.

So, mere mortals again,

no longer holy men,
magicians or deities,

we walked, at first somewhat
wearily up the road towards

Badrinath,
one of the holy centers

at one of the sources
of Mother Ganga.

Right from the very beginning,
from Ganga Sagar, we were aware

that we were doing what
every Indian wants to do,

which is to make a pilgrimage
up the length of the Ganga.

So that was from the beginning,

and it was just borne in
on us more and more,

and when took off on foot,
we left the boats behind,

we felt even more like pilgrims,
because there were

people alongside us
doing the same thing.

(HOOFS CLIP-CLOP)

(SERENE MUSIC)

(FALLS RUMBLE)

(SOFT, SWEEPING MUSIC)

En route, we climbed
a long series of steps

up to a lake
sacred to the Sikhs.

(GENTLE, OSCILLATING MUSIC)

And as we went, we saw many very
old people making the pilgrimage

up there, and Ed was moved
to comment that this gave them

a purpose and a joy in their
later life that was very moving.

(REFLECTIVE MUSIC)

(MUSIC RISES)

(HERALDING DRUMBEAT PLAYS)

(REFLECTIVE MUSIC RISES)

(HERALDING DRUMBEAT CONTINUES)

(PEACEFUL MUSIC)

And so we reached Badrinath.

We were sort of on pilgrimage,
but our main aim, of course,

was to...

end the journey
from the ocean to the sky.

And so we started planning
on the final stage -

the ascent of the
mountain, to the sky.

(SUDDEN DRUM MUSIC)

Akash Parbat was to be the peak,
the un-climbed peak,

that we were heading towards,
just below 20,000ft.

(DRUM MUSIC)

When we got to the mountains,

there was this nurturing love
around Ed,

because it was the new Ed,
the non-grieving Ed.

And very much at that point,

the Graeme Dingles, the Murray
Jones, the next generation of,

'How do we make these
decisions in the mountains,'

that was coming to the fore.

It looks big, but it's light
as a blooming feather.

All same.

By golly, we're going to
need those cairns, I think.

Yeah.

If this cloud keeps
building up -

because it's building up
pretty quickly.

(DAUNTING MUSIC)

Ed's climbing career
in the Himalayas

had begun in this place.

Some of us kind of anticipated

that indeed, this could be
the place where it ended too.

Which brings me to the
slightly reckless decision to go

to altitude without the required
time of acclimatization.

And that had just become one
of those, 'It's the schedule,'

you know?
The schedule took over.

The expedition had to fulfill
its goal, and I think we were

probably a little bit
bulletproof at that point too.

The next stage was to establish
a base camp on the mountain

at about 15,000ft. And we were
in a hurry to get on to this

and get on up to the summit,

because we were very worried
about the advent of winter.

It was now getting late
in the season,

and we wanted to get
the job over quickly.

I think time was precious
and all of that sort of thing,

and Ed felt we had to do it
in a certain amount of time.

And I said, 'Ed, we're...

'going up too fast.

'And if we keep this up,

'someone's going to die,

'and it will probably be you.'

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Ed might have claimed

that it was the young
climbers pushing him,

but that's completely untrue.

All we wanted to do was make
sure that he had a safe...

ascent,

and a safe ascent means...

going up about 1000ft a day

at his time in life.

And the plan was that we
would go up 3000ft a day,

and it's just too much.

When the porters dumped their
loads off to base camp,

thankfully, and headed down,
they turned to warn us

that we would be very foolish
to go on any further,

because we were trespassing
into the land of the gods,

and in winter,

that was territory no mortal
could enter unharmed.

I personally thought from
my experience that because

we'd been going up quite slowly,

we would all be adequately
acclimatized as we went.

But as we were climbing up,
and we'd reached a height

of, let's say,...

14,000ft, 15,000ft, Ed said,

'Well,...

'I wouldn't mind
stopping here, actually.'

And we didn't take any notice.

Now, we should have
listened to that.

What height do you
reckon it is, Mike?

- I'd say roughly 15,000.
- Do we have the altimeter?

Ed was quite a bit older than
us, and what Ed didn't let on

was that he'd been suffering
from altitude sickness

at that altitude quite a lot
over the previous two years,

since the death of Louise and
Belinda, which was the beginning

of a very rapid decline in
his tolerance of altitude.

And so we were heading into
a disaster without knowing it.

(LOW, EERIE MUSIC)

(HAUNTING FLUTE MUSIC)

Altitude sickness
is a ticking time bomb.

Up where we were climbing,

there's less than half
the oxygen in the air

that you'd have
down at sea level.

And up here, you risk developing
mountain sickness,

where fluid flows into
the lungs and the brain.

And Ed insisted on carrying
as much as the rest of us.

So the very next day,
foolishly, as it turned out,

we headed on up,
this time without porters

and carrying all
the loads ourselves.

Ed was a prodigious
load carrier in his youth,

and he'd carried
by far the heaviest load

to the high camp on Everest.

But that was when he was 33,
and he was now 57.

(RISING DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(PIERCING FLUTE MUSIC)

(TENSE MUSIC CONTINUES)

And unfortunately my father
had begun to develop

a condition with altitude.

Despite his extraordinary
performances on Mt Everest

and other peaks in those early
years, because he had gone up

too quickly on some previous
occasions, he had developed

pulmonary and cerebral oedema.

And once you've actually
developed those conditions,

you have a higher
and higher propensity

to getting them again.

So our fairly rapid ascent
from Badrinath

up on to the glacial plateau
beneath Akash Parbat

proved to be one step
too far for my father.

(BREATHES HEAVILY)

One foot in front of the other.

And obviously the altitude was
not treating him well at all.

I think we worked out
it must be at least 18,000ft.

He was distressed.

He was not in a good way.
He'd lost his color.

He was fighting with his breath.

And he carried really
far too heavy a load,

and we went up too fast.

And he, and I must say...

I also,

were totally exhausted.

(APPREHENSIVE MUSIC)

(GENTLE FLUTE MUSIC)

Ed said he was far more
exhausted reaching here

than he was reaching the summit
of Everest. But here he was.

And beneath his feet lay
the greatest, most loved river

of them all.
And he'd led us all that way.

(HAUNTING GUITAR MUSIC)

Well, I was woken up
about 10 o'clock at night

by Ed screaming out,
saying he wanted Jim.

And he was obviously
in some pain.

Murray Jones came
and shook me awake and said,

'Look, Ed's...

wants some help.

He's complaining he's got
a terrible pain in his back.'

And I thought, 'Well, I suppose
it had something to do

with carrying a load up here,'
and I gave him a painkiller.

And an hour later, he said,
'Yep, that felt better now.'

But the next morning,
we went up,

and Mingma came to see me and
said, 'Go and see Bara Sahib.

He no... I not happy
with Bara Sahib.'

And I went along there, and
Ed was in a stuporous state.

You could shake him,
and he'd say, 'Ahhh. Ahhh.'

And he clearly was in the early
stages of cerebral oedema.

Fluid on the brain,
from high altitude.

This is...

a life-threatening illness.

It can lead to death
within 24 hours.

Dad was sort of lying there
slurring his words,

really not coherent at all.

He looked like a corpse.
He was totally Grey,

unconscious and didn't look
like he was going to live.

We all loved Ed dearly,

and we were desperately worried
that he was about to die.

As soon as we realised
how serious he was,

and we knew that
he probably didn't have

more than 60 minutes to live,
we just collapsed the tent.

Wrapped him like a cocoon
in ropes - climbing ropes.

Tied ropes on each end and
dragged him across the plateau

and then started lowering him,

just bundled up
in the tent fabric.

Without really any verbal
communication between us,

we acted as if we
were separate limbs

but operating by a...

single brain.

We simply collapsed
the tent around Ed,

wrapped him up in the tent,
still on his air mattress,

tied ropes to the tent
and started dragging him

as fast as we could
across the gentle slopes

of the snow plateau.

Because the only possible cure
for high-altitude sickness

is to get down to thick air
and more oxygen.

And we just started
dragging him across the glacier

to get down to lower elevations.
And I just remember,

as with the other members of the
team, just straining on a rope

out in front, knowing that
if I could do anything,

I would pull as hard as I could

to expedite this
and get my father down.

And foremost in my mind was the
fact that just two years before,

I'd lost my mother and sister
in an air crash in Nepal.

Here I was high in the
Himalayas, again, in India.

Was I about to lose
my father as well?

People loved Ed. There was
this very powerful emotion

that drove us on to do
everything we could.

Peter was particularly worried,
as you could well imagine,

and he was pulling like a great
draught horse out in front.

And he was so worried

that he went over the lip
of the snow plateau

and on to a very steep snow
slope we had ascended.

The rest of us realised
what we were doing

and circled round behind and,
instead of pulling,

started belaying.
And at one stage, poor Peter

was pulling not only Ed
but all the rest of the team.

And we just dropped down off
the side of the mountain,

descending on the
shortest line possible,

which is the most
direct line down.

As soon as we got on
to really steep stuff,

most of the team gathered round,

guiding what
you could call a sled,

but it was the tent
with Ed wrapped up in it,

and Ding and I at the back

were finding whatever belays
we could -

sometimes hopping
into crevasses,

sometimes getting
good shaft belays.

Everyone was working absolutely

as this incredibly
rehearsed team.

It was like we had rehearsed
this moment for all our lives.

And we were taking Ed
down vertical ice slopes,

down through rock...
rock gullies.

I've never seen
such determination

in a group of people to achieve-

put every ounce of their
strength and will

into getting Ed down to a lower
point where he would recover.

We dropped really fast.

I think we lowered him

about 3000ft

in not much more
than 60 minutes.

We didn't film at all.
Our total focus was on Ed

and our chosen task, and mine
was to carry all the extra gear.

Here's Mike with an enormous
pack on his back,

teetering on precarious
crampons right above.

Had he come off, he and the camp
would possibly have swept

the lot of us off, although
I'm sure Ding's and my belays

would have held.

Mike made it backwards
down this incredible icy...

it was near vertical
icy slope towards us.

But somehow I managed to cling
on, and I guess we were just

so utterly determined
that absolutely none of us

would die today.

So when we got

to the end of the snow,

we couldn't drag him
any longer, of course.

So I rather foolishly said, 'I
think I can probably carry him,'

which was a bit crazy,
because I was 10 stone,

and he was 18 stone.

But I contrived a rope harness

and got him on to my back

with the help of my mates.

And we were kind
of tottering along.

And we carried him -
took turns carrying him -

and he was a heavy load.

It was tough going.

Ed, apparently unconscious
on my back,

and his head lolling
around by my shoulder.

Ed was no lightweight
in those days,

and as he struggled down,
supported on either side,

Ding said, 'Jeez,
you're a heavy bastard, Ed!'

And a voice came up
from what we thought

was a comatose
corpse on his back.

And he suddenly said,

"12 stone 5,"

which was exactly his weight
when he climbed Everest in 1953.

We all laughed and knew
he was going to survive.

The fact that Ed could respond
like this to Ding's barb

gave us real hope that
the real Ed was still there

and was recovering.

Murray Jones, immediately
after Mike Gill's announcement,

shot off back to Badrinath and
managed to get a phone contact.

And I think the words
'Ed is dying' got through.

It was quite amazing
the reaction of the Indian army,

who just wanted to help, because
it was Sir Edmund Hillary.

And when I asked for one
helicopter, they sent two!

I was quite impressed.

But unfortunately, the cloud
cover was coming in,

and we could hear
the helicopters -

woomph, woomph,
woomph - overhead.

But we couldn't see them, and
they couldn't see us, of course.

So eventually, Peter went on
ahead to base camp

and brought back a tent
and some bedding for Ed

and the most essential thing, a
tin of Wattie's canned peaches,

which was Ed's favourite food.

It did reach a point
where he was saying,

'Well, I'm feeling quite
a bit better now.'

So we could put him down,
gave him a rest, and slowly

we could walk with him,
supported on either side.

And we knew we were out of it
by then.

Cos it's a very short-lived
thing once you get down.

But he could have died up there.

We pitched a tent
and all clambered inside,

and, um, the...

the sense of team

and warmth and...

thankfulness was just
overwhelming, really.

It was a lovely time.

And the mood now
was almost euphoric.

Ed was...

He was talking to us,
laughing with us.

He was eating canned peaches.
We knew that he was alive.

Suddenly, he's got
a smile on his face,

a little bit of color
in his cheeks,

And he's enjoying
a little bit of humor.

And I think the thing that
really told me he was back,

he was going to be OK,
was someone produced a large can

of New Zealand Wattie's
canned peaches,

and he really enjoyed
eating those, and I thought,

'He's going to be OK.'

Pete Hillary, at one stage,
said to me,

he said, 'God, for
a horrible moment then,

'I thought I'd see my whole
family die in the Himalayas.'

It must have been
pretty close, you know.

That form of oedema can just-

can take out the strongest
people very, very quickly.

(RISING MUSIC)

By morning, Murray was back

after climbing up through
the night with oxygen for Ed.

And then we heard the joyous
shouts of Indian mountain troops

who'd also come up to help.

And then we heard
the helicopter.

I think we were just
so moved that India,

who'd taken our expedition
so to heart,

was right here with us now.

(HAUNTING FLUTE MUSIC)

We had no trouble getting Ed
down to this much better

helicopter landing place.

The helicopter landed
still on full power.

So there was a horrendous noise,
wind.

And Mike Gill assisted Ed.
They got into the helicopter.

And Mike and Ed ducked
under the rotor blades,

hopped into the helicopter and
disappeared from our sight.

And then there was absolute,
complete silence.

And we were just-
Everyone stood around.

And then one by one,

people just collapsed in a heap

and wept -

just wept their hearts out.

It was extraordinary.

It had been, what,

two and a half days of just...

It felt like a knife-edge,
you know?

Mm. Extraordinary.

(GASPS, EXHALES)

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

The rest of us wept -

with relief and joy, because
the tension had been incredible.

And then we slapped each other
on the back, and then we...

we regrouped.

And we thought, 'Well,
what Ed would want us to do

'is to make sure
we get back up to the sky.'

Really, for Dad, we need to turn
our attentions back up there

and go and complete our journey,
from the ocean to the sky.

(RISING DRAMATIC MUSIC)

So that's what we did.

(MAJESTIC, TRIUMPHANT MUSIC)

And we were certainly
doing it for Ed.

We climbed a lovely snow dome
above the high camp,

which we named Akash Parbat -
Sky Mountain.

(MAJESTIC MUSIC BUILDS)

And Ed got his wish.

We did touch the sky.

(MUSIC CRESCENDOS, QUIETENS)

(SERENE MUSIC)

Dad fully recovered. In fact,
he lived for another 30 years.

He married a family friend,
June,

who'd also lost her partner
in an air crash.

(BAND PLAYS
'GOD DEFEND NEW ZEALAND')

He became the New Zealand
High Commissioner to India.

('GOD DEFEND NEW ZEALAND'
CONTINUES)

(CHILDREN SING, CHANT
IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

And for decades more,
he carried on his work

with his beloved Sherpas,

building over 30 schools.

(CHILDREN CONTINUE SINGING)

(SINGS IN LOCAL LANGUAGE)

(HAUNTING VOCAL MUSIC)

PETER: And he went
back to the Ganga...

with Mike Gill and Jim Wilson
and their kids

to give them a taste
of the beauty we'd all seen.

And, yes, if anyone ever asked,

'What was your favourite
expedition,' we'd always say,

'It was the time we went
by jetboat up the Ganga.

That was the best journey
of them all.'

(ENGINES BUZZ, RUMBLE)

(IMPASSIONED VOCAL MUSIC)

(GENTLE SITAR MUSIC)

(GENTLE SITAR MUSIC CONTINUES)

(TENDER PIANO MUSIC)

(SOLEMN, GENTLE MUSIC)

(POIGNANT CELTIC MUSIC)