A geologist and a mountaineer

Sudipta Sengupta

Sixty years ago, when I started my journey to become a geologist, I could never have imagined that it was going to be a voyage full of adventure. When I chose the subject for my graduation, I had little idea that it would be a predominantly male-dominated vocation. I discovered later that very few girls studied geology as it involves rigorous fieldwork. When I look back, I feel grateful. This profession has given me so much joy and fulfilment. I had the opportunity to explore remote areas all over the world, and meet fascinating people. The memoir ‘Breaking Rocks and Barriers’ (published by HarperCollins) is about my journey through life as a geologist and a mountaineer.

After my MSc, when I started my doctoral studies, I worked in remote parts of the Singhbhum area in Bihar (now Jharkhand) alone and had several remarkable experiences. Sometimes I hired a young tribal boy to accompany me during the fieldwork. I faced a rogue elephant once and, on several occasions, encountered poisonous snakes. In the late Sixties, the roads were primitive or nonexistent; I had to walk mile after mile to locate rock exposures, sometimes through jungles and dried paddy fields. At the end of the day, I had to trudge long distances through rough terrain with a rucksack full of rocks. But a rock exposure with beautiful structures made me forget all the hard work.

I would spend hours working on that exposure to understand the story behind it. It gave me immense pleasure to go through the intricate path of finding suitable solutions for complex problems. To me, it was not only work; it was my way of life.

Along with my studies, I took up mountaineering as a hobby. From my childhood on, I was attracted to this adventurous sport and my parents supported me as long as it did not affect my studies. In 1953, I saw Tenzing and Hillary after their epic climb of Mt Everest in Kathmandu, where my father was posted. Later, during my Basic and Advanced training at the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, Darjeeling, Tenzing was one of my instructors. I was also a member of the first all-women expedition to Ronti in 1967.

In 1970, six women mountaineers from Calcutta decided to climb a virgin peak, Lalana (20,130 ft) in Lahaul Himalaya, which had never been attempted. The leader was Sujaya Guha and I was her deputy. Sujaya was 32, I was 24 and the other members were between 22 and 28 years old. We were warned that it would be a challenging summit, but did not realise how difficult it would be. After our base camp, as we proceeded higher, we realised that numerous crevasses criss-crossed the approach glacier.

Sujaya, Kamala and I reached the summit on August 21, 1970. We were overjoyed and on our return to the base camp, celebrated our success with the other members of the team. But the joy was short-lived. On August 26, Sujaya, Kamala and another member, Shefali, were involved in an accident while crossing a mountain river near the camp. We lost Sujaya and Kamala. Triumph had turned into a tragedy.

In 1973, after a few years working with the Geological Survey of India, I had the opportunity to do my post-doctoral studies in Europe. I carried out fieldwork at the geological sites of Devon, Cornwall, Wales and Scottish Highlands and in Rio Tinto area in Spain. It was an uncommon sight to see an Indian girl moving around with a rucksack and a hammer in her hand! I also carried out my post-doctoral studies in Uppsala University of Sweden, where I joined the International Geodynamics Project and carried out research on the Scandinavian Caledonides for two years. In connection with this project, I carried out fieldwork in the Norwegian mountains alone for two field seasons of two months each.

There were several exciting experiences during this time. I was fortunate to carry out fieldwork in the Alps, the Pyrenees in Spain and the Appalachians and Rockies in North America. Each and every trip was exhilarating.

The opportunity to join the Third Indian Antarctic Expedition in 1983 was like a dream come true! Carrying out fieldwork in the Antarctic climate is not an easy task. We stayed in tents. The temperature can be as low as minus 15-20 degrees Celsius and the constant wind makes matters far worse. Just writing in a notebook or taking readings is difficult. Except for a few good weather days, most of the time there would be cold wind blasting against your face — the only exposed part of the body.

Being a woman, I did have to endure the hardship and disadvantages, both practical and social, of conducting fieldwork in adverse conditions. However, I have had so many rare experiences which a scientist in a laboratory would never have.