Clement Wragge, a highly regarded meteorologist, gained government funding to establish a weather observatory on top of our highest peak. He set up his ‘camp’ on 10 December 1897. Bernard Ingleby joined him as first observer, along with two others (messrs Newth and Jensen). And Ingleby took ‘Zoroasta’ his St Bernard, as one does. You won’t be surprised to hear that the 15×15 ft. “Arctic” tent didn’t last long – it was shredded in a violent storm in February 1898. What were these guys thinking?
Well, they were soon thinking STRONG HUT. They returned to Jindabyne with the initial intention of repairing the tent but with the first substantial snow falls coming in March that year, they erected a two-room timber hut. Early visitors to the observatory (yes Clement and the lads weren’t the only mad ones) reported that to enter the hut in winter one had to slide down a hole dug in the snow and then through a short snow tunnel to the front door. Pictures of the hut, however, show a wooden chimney-like entrance, similar to the Cootapatamba hut, so they began to learn a thing a two about snow depth and hut entrances.
These guys were tough. They did four-hourly readings of their instruments that resided outside and in bad weather this meant crawling outside tied to a rope to 1) find their way back in and 2) to prevent being blown away! Each month or so, two members of the group travelled down to Cooma to post their meteorological findings. They also liked a bit of fun. Here’s an account in July 1898 by Bernard Ingleby of a morning’s ski run (in gum boots strapped on 8 ft. fence palings known as ‘snow shoes’) down the eastern side of Kosciuszko:
“Just as one’s accumulated speed almost reaches the point of dissolution the wily and knowing head of Zoroaster is seen peeping above an approaching hillock. However, it is too late to stop, were one able, so ‘forward’ is the watchword, notwithstanding the fact that Zoroaster is racing as best he knows how to meet you. As he gets closer one involuntarily shuts one’s eyes, and with a smothered ‘bismallah’ awaits the result; and well one may, as soon there is heard, breaking the deathlike silence, a triumphant yelp, followed by a howl of pain as the would-be recordmaker feels himself projected through space shortly to find his ethereal flight is as ephemeral as it is swift, for a thump is heard reverberating from the neighbouring mountain sides; then one snow shoe, shortly followed by another, hits you on the head.”
They got used to the snow-shoes, however, and were the first people to ski to the peak of Townsend and across to Blue Lake.
The whole experiment came to an end after the winter of 1900 when the funding ran out. The NSW Tourism Bureau maintained the hut until 1914 when it was burnt down after a lightning strike.
– Paul Pearce